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An excited, wild-haired old man in a messy, cluttered lab/kitchen stirs a large pot, surrounded by ingredients, with a speech bubble saying 'Behold! My binomial masterpiece!'

An excited, wild-haired old man in a messy, cluttered lab/kitchen stirs a large pot, surrounded by ingredients, with a speech bubble saying 'Behold! My binomial masterpiece!'

The Tale of Bartholomew and the Great Butter-Blunder Bartholomew was a weird, venturesome, and fundamentally incompetent dairyman with a beady eye for theatrical provender. His temptation—a true bread-and-butter issue—was to win the payday at the Gilt-edged High Tea smorgasbord. He didn't just want a sandwich; he wanted a stratified, butyraceous fuel source. He started by attempting to churn a gallon of buttermilk and ghee into a mousse so impalpable it was practically unctuous vapor. The Churning Chaos “I need richness!” he screamed, tossing a slab of fudge, a pat of shortening, and a firkin of renovated butter into his malaxator. He added arachis oil, cacao butter, and shea-nut oil until the emulsions reached a lethal consistency. Bartholomew, a venturesome descendant of a butterman, was not choosy. He threw in celery, margarine, butterscotch, and groundnut butter. He even added butterbur and toadflax, which he’d found near the mousetrap in the milkhouse. “It’s a binomial masterpiece!” he yelled, checking his butyrometer and the lactobutyrometer for the overrun. He used a butter knife to baste a monkey nut with buttercream and taffy icing. Then, he decided to clarify a roux with Newburg sauce and hollandaise sauce to shorten the shortcake. The smell was becoming rancid, a result of premature butyric fermentation, but Bartholomew thought it smelled like premium penuche. The Menu of Madness His menu for the judges was a miscellaneous jumble. He prepared: Scampi sautéed in Voir plus