
I finally decided to try the viral running trend again. You know, the one where you run with a bag of cream and churn it into butter. Last time it did not work out very well at all. As promised, this time I made a few changes based on my previous result.
First, and most importantly, I got heavy cream that was free from preservatives and was low temp pasteurized instead of ultra-pasteurized. This was the most significant and expensive change I made. I bought this boutique stuff called Mill King Heavy Whipping Cream from Central Market. It cost an angina inducing $6.79 for one pint. That comes out to $54.32 per gallon.

And what exactly is all that money I’m spending for? The only ingredient in this stuff is literally just cow’s cream.

Last time, I got burned by preservatives like polysorbate 80. This stuff has none of that at all. It doesn’t make sense that not adding things to a product makes it cost so much more. For $50 a gallon I’d expect this to contain Love Potion No. 9, Invigaron, and Compound V.
This is like when you go to the modern gym with rows of treadmills and ellipticals everywhere and membership is $10 a month. Then you see another place that looks like some rando’s garage with rusty dumbbells in a corner and everything looks like it smells like ball sweat, and the price is $75 a week.
In addition to the change of cream I made lots of other changes. As you can tell from the amount of sweat on the bottle in the pics above, I left the cream out for about an hour to get close to room temp before heading out. I also ran 6.5 miles instead of 6 although my route was still entirely sidewalks and improved roads. I also added about 1/8 tsp of salt to the cream. Same as last time, I poured the cream into a double bag and put the bag in my hydration carrier and took off.
When I got back I knew instantly that I had a different result than before. Last time there was no real separation but this time there was a definite fatty residue all over the bag with a liquid phase all around it. A picture of the inside of the bag will show you what I mean.

I stuck a finger in there and scooped some up and it definitely tasted like butter. This means I got farther than I got last time. The next step from here is to scoop out your butter and dunk it in ice cold water. This helps wash out any buttermilk that is trapped in your butter (which can make it go bad faster). You put the butter into a giant bowl of ice water and knead it a little so the butter clumps together and everything that isn’t butter rinses out.
A picture of this would show you what I mean. If I had one. Let me say that scooping freshly made room temperature butter from a ziploc bag into a bowl of ice water is one of the messiest things I’ve ever done in my life. I instantly wound up with butter all over my forearms and the kitchen counter and everything. And warm butter does not simply wash off your hands. It just smears around all over the place. The last thing I was going to do was grab my phone to take a picture of this horrible mess. If you ever try making your own butter, make sure you have at least two sets of hands to help with this step and the inevitable clean-up.
Eventually, after many hand washes and towelings off, I got the butter fully rinsed. I formed it into a ball and placed it onto a saucer.

Eyeballing it, this made a total of about 3 or 4 ounces of butter. The only thing left was the taste test. A couple dabs on some toast and washed down with a Powerade.

OK, not to sound immodest or anything but it tasted great. It tasted like you imagine the homemade butter you will one day make with your own two hands will taste. Rich, creamery butter taste and mouthfeel.
Finally, the ultimate question to answer: was this whole thing worth it? Fuck no! Between the two tries I spent $9.75 on cream, ran 12.5 miles, and completely turfed my kitchen. And for what? Four ounces of butter? What a fucking joke. I guess I have the memes and the friends I met along the way, but the juice is not worth the squeeze as they say. I hope the next viral trend involves sitting on the couch reading sci-fi short stories.




