Tall Clover Farm

Storage Solutions: My Mom’s Bright (and Admittedly Good) Idea

How-To

Tom

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January 29, 2013

Storage Solutions: My Mom’s Bright (and Admittedly Good) Idea

Storage Solutions and How to let the sunshine in on a window shelfMy mother is not one to sit idly by. After her last visit to my house, she pretty much had me and the place shipshape in a matter of days. When she asked, “What should we do next?” I offered, “Take a nap?”

I could see the wheels turning, a suggestion was about to be set free for consideration, “Tom, you know your pantry?”

I was glad to see she didn’t shame me, by adding, “You know, the one I had totally organized and spiffed up for you on my last visit.” (Though I felt it may have been implied.)

“Um, hmmm, ” I replied, “What are you thinking?”

“Well, you know how all of your empty canning jars take up so much storage space? You could build shelves in the pantry window and store them there. ”

Of course, this was a brilliant idea; the jars would be out of the way, but accessible, and the empty glass would allow light to still stream into the small space.

I was game (since the nap option was not on the table) and began by clearing a path to the window. I started by placing two quart jars on the windowsill, bridging each with a scrap of fir board, and leveling with shims. From there, I marked the ‘wall’ at the top of the temporary shelf on the left and right side, removed the shelf board, and inscribed a line at the mark, from back to front using a level and a pencil. I pre-drilled holes for two screws (to avoid splitting the wood) and secured the quarter-round under the said line to act as a bracket for the finished shelf.

I then measured the width of the window above each quarter-round bracket. (This is an old house and no two measurements are the same). A few quick cuts on the chop saw, pop the shelf into place, and let the sun shine in.

After the first shelf was in, I placed the next two appropriate jar bookends atop it, measured again, and repeated the process. Four cuts and fives shelves later, organization was restored and daylight plentiful. Spacing between shelves was determined by preferred jar size.

Final count: 2 shelves for quarts jars, 2 shelves for pint jars, and one shelf for pints and smaller.

Zen of canning: May the force (time and temperature) be with you.

Now, every time I open the pantry door I’m reminded of my Mom’s truly bright idea (and not tripping over canning jars). Thanks Mom! I’ve rested up a bit now; what shall we tackle on your next visit? (Oh and Mom, as a reminder, Washington State law requires two 15-minute breaks per every eight hours of work.)

PS- a special thanks to Shelby for the lovely note and packet of seeds.

PSS — and I promise, the Crumble Apple Pie recipe is coming shortly.

Cooking Up Community and Apple Pie

Vashon Living

Tom

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January 24, 2013

9

Partners in pie: Nancy sets the pace and the menu. I stand in awe, and slice, dice, bake, and serve where needed.

Yesterday when my pal, and community dinner iron chef Nancy called to discuss our plans for that night’s preparations, she began with dessert (just another reason to love her) and said, “Tom, you do know today is National Pie Day, don’t you?” Oddly I did not. Who even knows such things? Gosh, is there a National Tater Tot Day, or a National Peanut Butter Lover’s Day or National Cheese Fondue Day? Yes, Yes and Yes; February 2, March 1, and April 11, respectively.

I never met a pie I didn’t like (aside from an unfortunate kidney pie encounter in the UK).

Nancy and I are simpatico in the pie department; we could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It is the planet’s most perfect food, after all. I was delighted that she left the making and the baking of the pie to me. I chose to make a pie based on a recipe from my friend Jeanette–a dutch apple crumble crust confection that is as easy and fail-safe to make as it is delicious.

It all starts with a savory (slightly sweet) oil dough, and ends with a delicious mountain of apple crumble.

Jeanette’s Easy Apple Pie Recipe

Jeanette’s Best Easy Apple Pie

Print recipe

Serves	8-12
Prep time	30 minutes
Cook time	50 minutes
Total time	1 hours, 20 minutes

The Dutch style apple pie is so delicious, considering how easy it is to make. The crumbly oil crust is basically foolproof.

Ingredients

2 cups flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1 heaped teaspoon Kosher salt
2/3 cups vegetable oil
3 tablespoons milk
6-7 Medium apples (mix it up, e.g. Granny Smith, Golden Delicious and Jonagold)
2 tablespoons flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 cup butter

Directions

Dough
Step 1
Mix first three dry ingredients: flour, sugar salt
Step 2
Add vegetable oil and milk to dry mixture. Work together until mixture resembles damp coarse sand or tiny pebbles. Reserve one cup of mixture for the top crust.
Step 3
Place remaining dough mixture into pie plate and press to form crust on the sides first, then do the same to form bottom crust. Fill any holes with crumbs and press firmly.
Apple Filling
Step 4
Core, peel apples and slice in to hearty chunks or slices. Mix apples with remaining dry ingredients: flour, sugar, nutmeg and cinnamon. Mound apples in the dough-lined pie plate. No need to press down apples; the crumb topping will fill up the gaps. Dot with butter
Pie Assembly
Step 5
Add the reserved pie crumble (crust) to top the pie. Add one tablespoon at a time covering pie evenly. Bake at 400 degrees F for 50 minutes, apple filling will bubble.

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And on a related note, consider volunteering for a community dinner in your neck of the woods. Even if you don’t cook, there are volunteer positions to serve food, do dishes (I love these folks), prep the kitchen and clean up.

The Vashon Interfaith Council to Prevent Homelessness does a remarkable job of helping our friends in need in so many ways. Volunteer today, it will warm your heart like a slice of pie fresh from the oven.

Saying Goodbye to One of the Good Guys

Remembrances

Tom

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January 18, 2013

41

John Snyder: Grill Master and friend extraordinaire

This week I said goodbye to my dear friend John Snyder, quietly in my heart, unconvincingly in my mind and not surprisingly in the presence of tears.

My last visit with him was more about proximity and presence than words. The man I grew to love as a brother over the last decade was slipping away, his towering vitality seized by cancer, and now he was confined to a bed provided by hospice.

Granny (97 years young), John and Beth on their first visit to my new home on Vashon Island.

John’s beloved Beth left us to our visit in his upstairs room of their fine Victorian, a house blessed with happy times and enviable views of my favorite Seattle park. Century-old fir trees flanked the north side of the house and the oldest one provided a verdant stage outside John’s window. On a nearby branch perpendicular to the weathered trunk, perched a Great Blue Heron — its silhouette abstract, its color as deep and rich as the weeping boughs determined to conceal it. Beth said the heron had been there off and on all week. I wasn’t quite sure if the tall lanky bird was keeping an eye on John or vice versa.

At first, I began to chatter about random things–nervous small talk at best. John, with his eyes fixed out the window, and his voice just above a whisper, awaited my next pause, and said, “I bet the ferry ride was beautiful today.”

Grateful that John had saved me from myself, I calmed down and started over and spoke slowly, “John, it was exceptional. The Olympics had a fresh coat of snow. The Sound was churned up by wind, rough with whitecaps, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Even Mount Baker was out.” John turned to me, with the slightest of smiles, and nodded with approval. Even when bedridden, John was a generous soul. He knew he could not feel better, so he made sure I did.

John had many gifts, and focusing on what truly mattered was one. Others may go through life searching for the better “party,” but for John, the best place was where he was and who he was with. He reveled in the moment, in the people before him, and in what was genuine and sincere.

What John pursued, lived, and loved was not about bravado, bragging rights, or bucket lists, but rather the shared experience, the exchange of ideas, the delight in discovery, the power of music, the beauty and impact of the written word, and the easy fellowship of a crowded table and a noisy room, even better if under he and Beth’s roof.

John left us this week, the heron now gone, but you don’t forget a man like John, you don’t abandon his friendship merely due to his absence. John, we’ll smoke some ribs just for you, read some lightweight novels so you can mock us. We’ll curse armadillos and squirrels, and we’ll listen closely to the conversation so you know you taught us well.

And John, I know all this sentimentality would have rankled you to no end, so I’ll try to make it up to you with a judicious quote from one of your favorite (no-nonsense) poets, Robert Frost:

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. It goes on.”

Yes John, it may go on without you, but we don’t have to like it one bit, dear friend.

Tall Clover Chronicles: Confessions of an Unbalanced Force

Tomagrams

Tom

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January 14, 2013

17

The Case of the Unstable Table“You can only lean on that which resists.” -Indian Proverb

And so, the laws of physics win again.

In my last installment of the Tall Clover Chronicles: Boz Takes the Cake, my four-legged friend and beau to Gracie, taught me a lesson in physics and dessert placement.

One would think my table toppling days would be over after that incident, but nooooo…Sir Issac Newton had one more lesson to share: If an object is at rest, it will remain at rest unless an unbalanced force acts upon it. (Say hello to the unbalanced force.)

At a summer estate sale, I found a wonderfully sweet table for a sweet price. Granted it needed refinishing, the top was unattached and there was a definite wobble factor inherent in its ambitious design, but it spoke to me nonetheless–from elegant scroll feet, to solid walnut top, to stunning pedestal (a trapezoidal tour de force if you ask me). Yep, I was smitten and ready to give this American Empire mutt a new home and a little rehabilitation.

Days went by, and I basked in the beauty of my 100-year old find with its quirky tilt and potential for polish. I set up the table temporarily, if not haphazardly, in my kitchen nook to try it on for size. Being a man who never met a surface he didn’t want to cover, I naturally burdened the poor thing with several weeks of treasure hunting, magazine and booking piling, and good old general kitchen clutter. Much like the straw that broke the camel’s back, a bag of groceries brought the old drop-leaf (and everything atop it) down in a cascade of crashes, with serious causalities coming from a clutch of glass and crystal vases. (No dogs or homeowners were injured.)

Between self-inflicted tongue-lashings and cleaning up the mess, I decided there was no time like the present to level and bolt the tabletop to the base. Barely 15 minutes later, the table was stable (me, not so much), and I shook my head thinking how many lessons must a fellow learned?

While I fear the answer is as many as it takes, I don’t wish to muddy my head with too much thinking here; one maxim per mishap is best for this simple thinker.

So what shall it be… Don’t put off tomorrow what you can do today?

Nah, perhaps something a little less overbearing like…Don’t cry over spilled milk (or broken vases).

Elbow ready. (Note the two glass survivors on the windowsill.)

Tall Clover Chronicles: Boz Takes the Cake

Boz & Gracie

Tom

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January 10, 2013

17

Tall Clover Chronicles: Boz Takes the Cake

After a determined lawn-to-chair-to-table climb, Boz ponders the absence of food (and his next move).

Much like Charlie Brown putting his trust in Lucy to hold the football on his kickoff attempt, I too have blindly believed that the laws of nature (both human and otherwise) would support me no matter what my logic or track record, that somehow a simmering sauce would not boil over if left to its own devices, or that a slow leak would not fulfill its destiny as a flat tire if unattended to, or that bulldogs fed potato salad at lunch, would not vent odoriferous reminders at dinner. Ah, you live and learn (and pass the air freshener).

Recently I had to add another foible to my list of ill-fated expectations: trusting in the stasis of balanced weight, the premise that what rests in equilibrium will stay in equilibrium.

The dining room table (with a new wider base), or as I like to call it, Boz’s Lazy Susan.

My story begins with my penchant for tables, pedestal tables in particular. Seriously, I have enough tabletops to host a cribbage tournament. Last year I bought (because it was a scoring deal) a 60-inch round teak tabletop and placed it on a narrow base, a temporary fix until I could find a wider pedestal better proportioned to ensure the table’s stability. Even with the smaller base bolted to the table, all it took was a slovenly lean or a couple heavy elbows on the tabletop to create a Charlie Chaplin moment, sending culprit to the ground and table rolling. Trust me, I know of what I speak on a firsthand basis–bruised elbows, ego, nose and all.

Sometimes the unexpected treat (berry jam in this case) finds its way to an eager custodian.

My first (yes there were several) tabletop mishap came at the hand, make that paw, of another. During a rare moment of cleaning the kitchen, I heard a startling crash and thud, and felt a couple of rolling tremors not unlike those delivered by local quakes. Within the cacophony of destruction also rang the bright chime of crystal and the crackle of its subsequent demise.

I bolted to the dinning room only to find the large round table overturned and gently pivoting to the low side of the floor like a waning top. Shards of a crystal cake plate marked the point of impact, and a path of shredded coconut and whipped cream dollops led to the final resting place of the catapulted cake and one ebullient bulldog. Claiming his delectable prize, Boz was muzzle deep in frosting and pastry parts. My declaration of “Oh Boz-man, look what you’ve done!” fell on deaf, if not cream-clogged, ears.

While you may think English Bulldogs are sandbags with legs, this really is not the case. Where food is involved, Boz can morph into a super-canine creature: part Snoopy; a little Santa’s Helper; and a dash of Scooby Doo for good measure. Based on Boz’s previous table ascents, I have a theory. Boz climbed onto the dining room chair and then up and onto the dining room table. Having reached the summit, he sauntered over to the plateau’s edge where the poorly placed, ill-fated, and fully-iced coconut cake sat and teased his taste buds into a misguided move. As Boz went for the cake, the 65-pound furry anvil tipped the scale in gravity’s favor, and the table, the dog and the cake came crashing down.

Boz, unflustered by his free fall, dispatched the cake like this was his plan all along. With a cravat of whipped cream and goatee of coconut, Boz begrudgingly allowed me to pull him away from his prize, check for injuries, and send him outside while I assessed and cleaned up the damage. Gracie, mere feet away on the sofa, was not to be bothered.

Gracie, ever the lady, prefers naps and placemats to Boz’s brutish ways.

Now you’d think I’d have learned a lesson, but there’s more to share, more to the story of how sometimes we ignore our inner voice of reason and common sense. Perhaps this little public admission (read, humiliation) will help me pay closer attention to the laws of nature (again, human and otherwise) in the future.

Stay tuned for Part II of the Tall Clover Chronicles.

Oh, and for the record, Boz was (as is always the case) forgiven.

Shining a Little Light on the New Year

Tom

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January 3, 2013

40

Hope for the New YearOne paper bag + a couple cups of sand + one lit candle = magic

My brain seems to have been on hiatus (and may still be). Every time I sat down to write a post in December, five minutes into it, I’d curl my lip, scrunch my face, and say, “Really Tom, this is what you’re going to write about.” Then a tray of Christmas cookies would catch my attention and the day would be lost. Well, it’s 2013, the baked goods are gone, and I’m ready to dust off the cerebral cobwebs and try again. Bear with me, be kind (and don’t send cookies).

Shining some light on my front fence and the wonder of the holidays.

I liken the new year to a freshly-pressed shirt: crisp, bright, and unmarred by noodle soup or a cheap house red. The stains and wrinkles will come soon enough in the form of missteps, foibles and failed resolutions, but my resolve will come not in the pronouncements made one fleeting moment on the heels of 2012, but in the actions and pursuits of 2013. I’ll keep it simple this year, and strive to honor the light in others, and nurture that which fuels the soul, the smile and the heart. For example…

I find light in the promise of summer and a garden crowded in color, bounty and beauty. (photo: Crystal Culp)

Boz finds his light in a seat at the table (whether for supper or a quick game of poker).

My friends Karen and Ginelle share their light in surprising this friend with an impromptu trail of luminaries marking the way home.

Gracie’s at her brightest when helping me edit text and brainstorm blog ideas.

My buddy Jon lights up when precise carpentry skills and a job well done are required (and when my stupid questions come to an end).

Tom Mom and the bulldogs My mom beams brightest when helping others (and quite often when spoiling her son) .

Light is a powerful thing; the smallest bulbs can often have the greatest impact. Everyone is different; what makes you shine brightly?

Welcoming the Ghosts of Christmas Past

Tomagrams

Tom

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December 20, 2012

20

Well, hello Christmas Past!
Recollections can serve to fuel and warm the heart on a chilly winter day; here are a few favorites from my Vashon Island home. Merry Christmas!

snow and lights from a christmas past — Story 1: The Spirit of Christmas Drove a Pickup Truck…read here.

Christmas Past tree — Story 2: Jonny Awesome and His Truck of Trees…read here.

Archangel Gabriel — Story 3: When Christmas Came to Vashon…read here.

Christmas past lights the way to Christmas present luminaries — Story 4: Shining Light on Winter’s Darkest Day…read here.

Before and after Christmas Tree — Story 6: Happiness Is a Charlie Brown Tree…read here.

Orange Burst Chocolate Torte: Coco Loco Good

Recipes

Tom

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December 13, 2012

16

Orange Burst Chocolate Torte: Coco Loco Good

Orange Chocolate Torte – a marriage made in culinary heaven.

Still basting my blog posts (and myself) in butter this week, I came across a recipe on the Darigold site that spoke–no, make that shouted– to me: orange burst chocolate torte. As a man enamored with culinary combinations, the promise of chocolate chased by little orange salvos prompted me to stop, read, make, eat and share this most satisfying dessert.

I had trouble staving off my dessert-driven friends from eating the last piece as I needed to have at least one photo posted to prove I actually made the thing. The whimpering and frowning faces were too much; I caved in and the incoming forks made quick work of the last wedge of wanton chocolate awesomeness.

Not a problem, I’ll whip up another torte, and since yesterday was 12-12-12 and my friend Brian, born in 56 and turning 56, I knew he needed some chocolate to celebrate the timely milestone. Now I better find my camera’s battery charger real soon or this post will showcase nothing more than a smudged cake plate of chocolate swirls.

Orange Burst Chocolate Torte

Recipe Type: Dessert

Cuisine: American

Author: Tom Conway, adapted from Darigold.com

Prep time: 30 mins

Cook time: 20 mins

Total time: 50 mins

Serves: 12

Enlisting Orange and Chocolate to make a dreamy creamy torte with little flour and lots of flavor and presence.

Ingredients

TORTE
5 oz. squares semi-sweet chocolate, cut up
3 oz. Mexican chocolate (one disk of Ibarra or Abuelita)
1 cup blanched almonds, finely ground
1/2 cup (1 stick) Darigold Butter
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 cup orange juice or orange liqueur
1 orange, zest
3 tablespoons orange juice or orange liqueur
4 1/2 tablespoons flour
1/8 teaspoon salt
3 eggs, separated
GLAZE
3 oz. semi-sweet chocolate
3 tablespoons Butter
2 tablespoons orange liqueur or orange juice

Instructions

Preheat oven to 375°.
Butter and flour 9-inch spring-form pan or cake pan.
Combine two chocolates and butter in top of double boiler; place over hot water and melt.
Stir in orange liqueur, orange zest, and remove from heat.
Beat egg yolks and sugar until thickened; add chocolate slowly and blend well. Combine flour and almonds; fold into egg yolk mixture and add liqueur or juice.
In a separate bowl, whip egg whites and salt until stiff but not dry; gently fold into batter.
Pour into prepared pan and bake 20 minutes.
DO NOT OVERBAKE.
The sides should be set and the center still creamy. Cool torte 10 minutes in pan; remove to rack to cool.
For glaze, melt chocolate and butter; add orange liqueur. Cool to room temperature.
Spread glaze on cake, icing sides
Refrigerate until served.
Serve torte at room temperature.

Notes

Any finely ground nuts will work. Grand Marnier is a nice addition and as are candied orange peels.

Shaker Lemon Pie Dressed as a Tart

Recipes

Tom

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December 9, 2012

25

Better With Butter RecipeShaker Lemon Tart: A Star Is Born

My favorite winter dessert (hands down) is Shaker Lemon Pie. Each bite is a pop of sweet-sour goo, chased by a chew or two of flaky rich crust, resilient rind and simple unadulterated flavors of homespun goodness. With such attributes, you’d think I could leave it alone. Fat chance, this plain Jane pie is begging to be gussied up, to sport a makeover worthy of her farm-fresh ingredients and taste potential. Yep, I turned this country cousin into a city tart.

Why change things? For as much as I love this pie it has two shortcomings: tough lemon rinds and a deep-dish thickness that can overwhelm. By reinventing the pie into a thinner tart and reworking the filling into a smoother more refined custard, the dessert shines on all levels.

I start with a butter rich dough and roll it out into a circle about two to three inches larger than the tart pan.

I press the dough gently down into the pan to cover the bottom and sides. Try not to stretch the dough or it will spring back during baking.

A quick firm roll of the pin removes all excess dough.

Unlike the original pie recipe, I pulse the filling in a food processor, reducing the stringy long rinds (think citrus-flavored rubber bands) into tiny bright bits of lemon essence. I add a top crust and run the rolling pin over the pan again to cut off the edges, and in this case use a star cookie cutter to add dough appliques and a needed air vent in the center.

The top crust shrinks a bit to reveal the golden gleam of Shaker lemon pie custard.

Shaker Lemon Tart

Recipe Type: Dessert

Cuisine: American

Author: Tom adapted from Saveur.com

Prep time: 1 hour

Cook time: 50 mins

Total time: 1 hour 50 mins

Serves: 12

Making over my favorite Shaker Lemon Pie into an even dreamier tart.

Ingredients

FILLING
2 large organic lemons
2 cups sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
4 eggs
6 tbsp. butter, melted
3 tbsp. sifted flour
PIE DOUGH
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
10 tbsp. cold butter, cut into pieces
2 tbsp. lard or vegetable shortening
ice cold water

Instructions

FOR THE FILLING
Thoroughly wash lemons
Finely grate lemon zest into a bowl.
Slice lemons very thin; remove and discard seeds.
Add slices to zest and toss with sugar and salt.
Cover and set aside at room temperature for 24 hours.
When ready to make the pie, put the lemon-sugar mixture into food processor (blade attachment)
Pulse for a minute or two, until lemons are a pureed, with little bits of lemon present
Add room temperature eggs one at a time, pulse to mix
Melt butter, add to mixture, pulse
Add flour
Pulse until well mixed and lemon rinds are pureed.
Set aside and make crust.
MAKING PIE DOUGH
Sift flour and salt together into a large mixing bowl.
Use a pastry cutter or forks to blend butter and shortening into flour
Stop blending when lumpy
Sprinkle in up to 6 tbsp. of ice water, stirring dough with a fork until it just begins to hold together.
Press dough firmly into a rough ball
Move to lightly floured surface.
Give the dough several kneads with the heel of your hand to form it into a smooth ball.
Divide dough into two balls, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for 1 hour.
BAKING and ASSEMBLY
Preheat oven to 425°
Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface into two 12″ rounds.
Fit one round into a 9-10″ tart pan
Cut dough edges off with rolling pin over the top of the tart tin
Pour filling into tart pan. leaving about 1/4 inch from top of rim
Cover pie with remaining pastry round.
Run the rolling pin again to cut the edges off the top
Cut steam vents in top crust (or cookie cutter holes at the time of rolling)
Brush with half and half, sprinkle sugar on top.
Bake until edges begin to brown, about 20 minutes.
Reduce heat to 350° and bake until crust is golden brown, 25–30 minutes more until firm
Remove from oven and cool for at least 30 minutes before slicing.

Notes

:: Use organic lemons
:: Farm-fresh eggs make a big difference in this recipe (or any recipe)
:: Brushing the top crust with milk, half and half or cream facilitates browning
:: Sprinkle sugar on top before baking for a nice finish
:: Serve with ice cream (whipped cream will do in a pinch) 😉

Crazy for cookie cutters: Pastry snowflakes tend to fall on my Shaker lemon tarts this time of year.

The post was sponsored and made buttery delicious by Darigold.

Butter Makes It Better

Recipes

Tom

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December 7, 2012

24

A stick of butter and loaf of banana bread later, I think I got my shot (and afternoon snack).

Butter and I go way back, from simple saltines slathered in gold and crowned with concord grape jelly, to Christmas cookies so dairy-rich in butter that I’d dare to sneak a few from Santa’s well-supplied plate. My Grandmother Verna would enjoy her morning Danish with delicate dots of butter bejeweling each bite. She would smile at me when I mirrored her actions at the breakfast table, and say, “butter makes it better.” Others would chide us for our caloric embellishments, but my grandmother and I knew what we were doing.

Whether apple pie or peach galette: it’s all about the fruit and the butter

Just recently Darigold folks saw a Thanksgiving apple pie photo I posted where I offered the following tip: don’t scrimp on the butter before adding the top crust. They contacted me and asked if I’d like to share some recipes using Darigold butter (which they would provide). Hmm, free butter and I get to bake something and write about it? Where do I sign up? Now that I think about it I should have held out for buttermilk, eggnog, sour cream, half and half, and yogurt.

Butter transforms the fruit pie…among other things.

When I received my butter (and thanked my lucky stars), I also received a recipe booklet and an information sheet. It seems Darigold butter is churned in Issaquah, Washington on the largest European vacuum-style churn ever imported to the United States. Built in Cherbourg, France by the Simon Frères Company, the churn can produce up to 50,000 pounds of high quality butter an hour containing less than 1% air. Less air means more butter, better baked goods, higher melting point, and denser texture. All milk used for the butter comes from Darigold’s farmer-owned and operated dairy farms, and all butter products are rBST-free and subject to strict quality controls.

Alright, now that I’ve got the ten-four on great butter, let’s get to baking.

Stay tuned for my first butter-makes-it-better recipe, and thanks Darigold for the delicious butter!