Saturday, March 14, 2009
When I was a child, I remember my mother drinking buttermilk. She said it reminded her of the fresh milk she drank as a child, the milk you get straight from a cow. It's tartness made my lips pucker and I never fully appreciated its tangy flavour...that is until traveling in southern Germany. I can't say precisely what triggered this new found appreciation. Perhaps it was the fresh mountain air, seeing the cows grazing on the hillside, the abundance of food that flooded my mind with childhood memories, food that felt like home. Whatever it was, I felt compelled to give buttermilk another chance. I don't know why I didn't appreciate it sooner, I had always loved everything else dairy (even though I try to limit it in my diet these days) and there really isn't much of a jump from yogurt to buttermilk. In fact, it's kind of like drinking Yop, although much more economical. I simply throw some buttermilk in my blender along with some fresh or frozen berries (today the feature fruit was blackberries, gathered fresh last summer and lovingly stored in my freezer). Sometimes I add a little maple syrup if the fruit is especially tart, and voila...instant meal chalk full of nutrients. I guess tastes change, because I love the stuff now. Or perhaps the appreciation was there all along and I just didn't know it. Is this sort of stuff hard wired into us?