My grandfather owned a dairy farm and every Saturday when the farm manager came into town he would bring us a 3-gallon can of unpasteurized, hydrogenated whole milk from that morning's milking.
She would pour it off into half gallon mason jars and put it in the fridge on the back porch for the cream to rise. On Monday most of the cream was made into butter.
My dad had a law school friend that had married a Yankee girl and moved up North. About once a year he would visit. My mom would serve a Peanut City country ham, with buttermilk biscuits topped with homemade butter and homemade Scuppernong jelly. For dessert we had fresh blueberry pie with whipped cream. The grapes and blueberries were also from the farm that we had picked. I though that poor man would eat himself to death.
WWG1WGA
Garde la Foi, mes amis! Nous nous sommes les sauveurs de la République! Maintenant et Toujours!
(Keep the Faith, my friends! We are the saviors of the Republic! Now and Forever!)
LonePalm, le Républicain du verre cassé (The Broken Glass Republican)