I went grocery shopping with my mom on Thursday, in addition to the farmer’s market. Somehow we managed to lose my butter in the mix and forgot to divvy up the lemons. When life gives you lemons, share them with your mother.

So while running errands today I snagged a pound of beurre I’d never normally buy, as it was salted. I like to have as much culinary control as possible – especially when salt is concerned. But something in me told me to give it a shot. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn’t split into four sticks with tablespoon indicators marked on the side. Perhaps it was the fact that it was produced in Kiel, Wisconsin – a mere 65 miles away.

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I could bike there and back in a day. Hell, I could probably even milk the cows and make the butter myself if I asked (and maybe I will!). Or maybe it was the simple and charming package:

Butter, from Kiel, Wisconsin

Whatever the case, I bought it, and it was heavenly. It was un-beurre-lievable. So I spread it gratuitously thick on a hearty wedge of a French baguette, with a smidge of anchovy paste:

Anchovy Paste

and some chopped chiles from yesterday. Di-fucking-vine. It is beautifully creamy and has an amazing tang that I’ve only tasted in French and Dutch butters. And though I’ll probably keep looking for unsalted butters of equal or better quality, it certainly exceeded what I normally get in quality – for about the same price.

As I’ve been saying for awhile: give everything a chance, or even two. You might change as a result – and though in this case it’s only butter, it resounds with everything we do.