Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Low-fat buttermilk is just all kinds of wrong. If it tasted sort-of close to the real thing, I might be able to shrug and say, "well it's probably better for me," but it's not that close. It reminds me of the phrasing Douglas Adams used to describe the not-tea in the Hitchiker's series.

Wrong.

(Puzzled as to why what I had in my mouth didn't resemble what I was expecting, especially since I've had this brand before, I did eventually think to take a closer look at the carton, where I finally spotted the telltale phrase.)

It didn't even occur to me that I would have that option -- otherwise I might have paid more attention when I grabbed it in the grocery store. (Or maybe not, since I wasn't feeling very well when I dashed out for groceries yesterday).

At least I only bought a pint[1] of it. *whew* (Maybe it's useful for making pancakes or something??) But the craving I got it to satisfy is still not satisfied.

[1] Translation for readers living in modern countries: a bit less than half a liter.