Holy mackerel, I found REAL butter at the market yesterday.

Those of you who are not in my family may be wondering, just what is “real” butter and how is it differentiated from “not real” butter. Well, the opposite of “real” is not “not real” but “store”, as in, “store” milk. You know, milk that comes from the store. “Real” butter doesn’t come from the store.

And, yes, I did buy this butter at a market place, but I would never have found it in the Gigante supermarket.

I went to the market for veggies and cheese. The cheese lady happens to sell other somewhat random household items along with the cheese, so I picked up a bar of soap and a can of tuna along with my kilo of cheese and 18 eggs in a plastic bag.

I asked her if she had any butter and she asked me what kind I wanted. I wasn’t sure what that meant, so I tried to get clarification.

She said, in a little box or a ball?


So then one of her daughters brought out this plastic bag containing a BALL of butter. I said, “Where did this come from?”

And the father said, “We make it at home.”

I asked where the milk came from, and he named a little pueblo somewhere that I didn’t recognize. (That’s a good sign. What do I know about the pueblos around Jalisco? Practically nothing.)

So, of course I bought it and danced around the house with it while Adolfo looked on, very confused and concerned for my mental health.

I’ve been losing weight lately, so this should put an abrupt halt to the weight loss as I’ve been considering all day the number of things that I could eat with butter.

It tastes like “real”.

3 Responses to “"Real"”

  1. Paul Says:

    Just another reason for me to be jealous of the young people in my family!

  2. barbara Says:

    Paul, are you jealous of the butter, or the dancing?

  3. Emilie Says:

    oh great I know what to send you for christmas ! Actually I don’t know if it will look like butter, or even taste like it šŸ˜‰

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