Fuck butter in sandwiches: it is gross and if you do it, you’re a mug.
Let me explain:
People make bad decisions all the time, it doesn’t make you a bad person. But if you spread butter in your sandwiches, clearly your decision-making is seriously impaired and therefore all of your choices are now moot.
Say: If I liked those trousers you were wearing, and then you told me you liked to spread churned, fermented milk spread on your sandwiches, I’m now gonna have to totally rethink your trousers and whether they’re actually nice or not. Those trousers are now moot. And so are my own life choices. Entire lives become mooted down in an instant. Now starts an awful spiral, an indiscriminate moot-storm, and a time when nothing is real. It’s a slippery slope (because of all the butter).
Chaos has a face, reader, and its face is made of butter.
People just like butter through exposure, anyway. I refuse to believe anything besides this reasoning: They have become institutionalised to butter. They have Stockholm Syndrome, but for butter. When I point at someone making a sandwich – bread slices akimbo, ham open, cheddar ready – and watch the butter that’s been scraped on there, I just ask them why. Why are you doing this? It’s exasperating. It’s like a joke everyone’s in on but me. People say it tastes nice – or makes sandwiches taste nicer(!) – but they’re lying to me and lying to themselves. Because it doesn’t. It’s bad.
Okay, no, actually, wait: there is one occasion it’s okay – the bread is warm.
I’ve said it all my life: If the bread is cold, put butter on hold. If the bread is warm, spread it right... orn. Find it on my family crest below an embroidered, inch-high me headbutting that smug little Lurpak shithouse with the dairy trumpet.
Picture the scene: In front of you is some nice, fresh bread sat in a little basket, maybe in an Italian restaurant or wherever, little white rivulets of steam rising from its warm loaf into your nostrils. Go ahead. Little scrape on there, yeah, like that. Lovely stuff. Because it’s a bit dry on its own, isn’t it? Go on. It’s fine. Bit of butter… Yeah. I’ll give you that one. Nice, innit.
Or toast: if you’ve got a bit of Marmite on the go, go right ahead. Makes it taste even nicer. Fair play to you. I fuck w/ it.
But – and dark clouds now gather as you read my lips; lips through which butter will not pass without good reason – or more like hands, I guess; hands that will not touch butter – if you put butter in a sandwich that has any of the following things in it, you are no good:
- Lettuce - pretty much just water and water is wet and so your nausey little “Oh, but it makes the bread less dry” nonsense is total crap.
- Cheese - made of dairy so you don’t need double dairy unless you want to spend the rest of your days shitting until heart disease finally snatches you up.
- Ham - buy nice ham and it is not dry. Why would you want to make slimy ham? What is wrong with you.
- Tomato - not for me, but again - wet.
- Mustard - also wet. And more delicious than butter. Won’t kill you.
- Literally any other sauce - they are all better than butter.
- Anything else - because butter is bad.
Butter is the devil’s unguent.
Slathering tasteless grease into a sandwich is just going to ruin the delicate flavours you got going on in there.
To me – a person with a strong and objectively correct opinion on such matters – it’s up there with the great culinary fuck-ups, like Trump’s burnt-to-a-crisp steak and catsup. He probably likes that shit. Can you imagine it? All the taste, the possibilities, the endless opportunities, ruined by a puerile devotion to tasteless rubbish.
That’s you, that is.