I buy buttermilk once a year. That purchase puts me in a very tiny minority. I do not know a single other living person who regularly buys buttermilk. Trust me, I don’t drink this stuff. I remember my mother and my grandmother both drinking it. To me, it was just thick, sour milk and not the least bit appealing. The one and only thing I use buttermilk to make is traditional Irish Soda Bread, which I do every year to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.
I decided to make two loaves instead of one. Not having the recipe with me when I stopped at the store, and fearing I would run short of this ingredient, I erred on the side of “better too much than too little” and bought a half gallon instead of a quart. This was a problem. The bread turned out great, but I now had a leftover quart of buttermilk with no purpose. I hate throwing away any food products for no reason. Surely, I could find a way to use this buttermilk before it reached the “expiration” date.
In the past few weeks I have made buttermilk mashed potatoes, two batches of buttermilk biscuits, a double batch of buttermilk-cranberry scones, and buttermilk cornbread. My next endeavor is scratch, dark chocolate buttermilk cupcakes for a birthday party. Hopefully, that will be the end of the buttermilk. If not, at least I won’t be pouring an entire quart down the drain. I suppose I could make a clafoutis, or another batch of biscuits to freeze for future use. They were the lightest, fluffiest, most flaky biscuits I’ve ever produced. Either way, the buttermilk will no longer be gracing my refrigerator shelf well before the expiration date printed arrives. Problem solved!
I learned my problem-solving skills by observation. Both of my parents came from enormous families and grew up during the depression. My father moved us from Cleveland to Ashtabula County because he wanted to own land. Life there was completely different from life in the city.
We grew massive amounts of vegetables that we consumed fresh, or we preserved then for use over the winter. We had half a dozen chickens early on, and fresh eggs were normal for us. Everything my mother cooked was homemade. Dad would purchase beef from a neighbor by the quarter or by the half, and the meat was portioned, packaged, and frozen by a local meat locker before it was stored in our chest freezer. Little food came from grocery stores, and a trip that included a stop at McDonald’s was an amazing treat.
My parents were incredible role models. They were hardworking, frugal people. They lived by a “waste not, want not” philosophy. All four of us kids learned those lessons well.
Now you are asking yourself, “How in the world is buttermilk relevant to me or anyone else, and who cares?”
Life and work are much the same. Each is a series of problems to be solved. There is never only one solution to a problem. Like leftover buttermilk that you don’t want to toss out, you solve the problem by giving it thought, looking at the issue from another perspective, and trying something new.
The easiest way to absolve yourself for your lack of progress, is to say, “But we’ve always done it this way.” The greatest inventions were discovered by those unafraid to say, “Let’s try this!”
Don’t be afraid to try something new. If it doesn’t work, try something else. Eventually, you may end up with a gem of a solution you never anticipated.
I, for one, will never again make a biscuit from scratch without using buttermilk (guess I’ll have to buy it by the pint). I’m feeling positive about those chocolate buttermilk cupcakes, too. I will let you know how they turn out!