Recipes, guides and kitchen know-how. Mostly useful, occasionally silly.
How to Make Homemade Butter - One Pot of Cream, Ten Minutes, Mild Arm Ache
One pot of double cream, a whisk (or a jar and strong arms) and about ten minutes. Whip it past whipped cream until it splits, drain off the buttermilk, wash it in iced water, then salt and shape it. That's homemade butter, plus cultured butter for show-offs.
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- Prep15 min
- Whisk10 min
- CookNone
- Makes~300g
- Calories~110
Calories are approximate, per tablespoon (about 15g), worked out from the ingredients. Brands and portion sizes vary.
One pot of double cream. One whisk. About ten minutes.
That's all that stands between you and a block of butter you made with your own hands. And your own shoulders. Mostly your shoulders.
I tried it because Isaac asked where butter comes from and "the shop" didn't go down well. He looked at me the way you'd look at a man who thinks milk comes from the fridge.
Turns out homemade butter is just cream that's been whisked until it gives up. It whips, it thickens, it looks like the top of a trifle, and then, very suddenly, it splits into yellow butter and thin white buttermilk.
No special kit. No churn. No cow in the garden. Erin did ask for a cow. Motion denied.
I read through a pile of methods, from British chefs to cookery magazines to a museum that teaches school kids to do it in a jar, kept what they all agree on and pinched the clever bits. This homemade butter recipe works with a whisk, an electric mixer or a jar.
Now showing
One pot of cream, one very tired arm, a bowl in detention and a puppy with a criminal record. The whole family turns up.
Thirty-nine seconds. Less time than it takes the cream to give up.
The 3,500-year-old butter in an Irish bog
Butter is older than most things in your kitchen. Including the kettle. Including Aaron's hoodie, and that's saying something.
Irish turf cutters keep digging up lumps of bog butter: butter buried in peat bogs, where the cold, airless, acidic ground kept it from going off.
In 2019, researchers from University College Dublin and the National Museum of Ireland tested 32 of them. They were real dairy butter, and the oldest went back to around 1700 BC. People kept burying it for 3,500 years.
Aaron, who is from Belfast, says that's just how they did fridges. He also says he's not tasting it. First time he's ever turned down butter.
So how is butter made, and why does it work? Cream is tiny drops of fat, each wrapped in a thin skin. Whisking traps air and knocks those drops together until the skins break. The fat clumps, the foam collapses, and the watery bit runs off. WebExhibits' butter science pages explain it properly, with diagrams. Isaac read the whole thing. Then he explained it back to me. Slowly.
What you need
- 600ml double cream. Double, not single - single cream doesn't have enough fat to turn. Avoid anything labelled extra thick, which has been fiddled with. Jersey or organic double cream gives a yellower, richer butter.
- A big bowl of iced water for washing the butter. Lots of ice. More than you think. Then a bit more.
- Sea salt flakes, if you want salted butter - about a quarter to half a teaspoon. Leave it out for unsalted.
That makes about 300g of butter and roughly 250ml of buttermilk. Two products for the price of one. Very Yorkshire of it.
Kit
Nothing fancy. Unless you count shoulders as kit, in which case bring two.
- A balloon whisk - a stainless one with a silicone scraper on one wire means you can scrape the bowl as you go. Honest bit: by hand it takes longer and you'll swap arms a lot. An electric hand mixer or stand mixer is quicker. A jar takes no kit at all.
- A large, deep bowl. It will splash. It will splash a lot.
- A sieve and a jug to catch the buttermilk
- A chopping board for pressing and shaping - a big bamboo board with a juice groove catches the drips
- Baking paper, plus two wooden spoons or butter paddles if you want a neat block
How to make homemade butter
Step 1 - Whip it past the point of no return
- Take the cream out of the fridge about 20 minutes before you start. Cool, not fridge-cold, turns faster - fat that's slightly soft clumps more easily.
- Pour it into a big bowl and whisk. It will go thick and fluffy, like the top of a trifle. Keep going.
- It then goes stiff, grainy and a bit pale-yellow. Still keep going. This is the bit where everyone stops. Don't be everyone.
With an electric mixer this takes around 5 to 10 minutes. By hand, longer. Swap arms. Swap people. Swap children if you have spares.
Step 2 - Wait for the break
- Suddenly it collapses. Clumps of yellow butter appear, swimming in thin, milky liquid. That liquid is buttermilk.
- The moment it splits, slow right down or the buttermilk will go everywhere. Everywhere. The ceiling is not out of range.
- Keep mixing gently for another minute so the little grains stick together into bigger lumps.
Cover the bowl with a tea towel if you're using an electric mixer. It's not a breakup. The cream just needed some space.
Step 3 - Drain off the buttermilk
- Tip everything into a sieve set over a jug.
- Press the butter gently with the back of a spoon to squeeze more buttermilk out.
- Keep the buttermilk. Pop it in the fridge and use it within a few days. It's brilliant in bakes and pancakes, and a marinade for chicken - more on that in a moment.
It's thinner than the shop-bought cultured kind, but it does the same jobs. Butter wouldn't exist without it. It's like the support act nobody remembers.
Step 4 - Wash it until the water runs clear
- Put the butter into the bowl of iced water and squeeze it with clean, cold hands.
- The water goes cloudy. Tip it out, add fresh iced water and squeeze again.
- Repeat two or three times, until the water stays clear.
This is the step that matters most. Any buttermilk left inside turns the butter sour and makes it go off faster. It's the one step people skip. It's also the one step people regret.
Step 5 - Salt it, shape it
- On a board, press the butter flat with a spoon or butter paddles to squeeze out the last drops of water. Pat it dry with kitchen paper.
- For salted, sprinkle over the salt and fold it in until it's even. That's how to make salted butter. Yes, really. That's the whole secret.
- Pat it into a block or roll it into a log in baking paper. Chill it for an hour to firm up.
Cold hands, cold paddles. Soak wooden paddles in iced water first and the butter won't stick. Warm hands make it greasy. Hot hands make it a puddle. I have hot hands. I'm a chilli.
Don't stop at whipped cream, and don't skip the wash. Every method agrees on these two. Keep whisking through the thick, fluffy stage until it suddenly splits, then rinse in iced water until the water runs clear. Get those right and the rest is decoration. Including the salt. Don't tell the salt.
The jar method (no whisk, just arms)
No whisk? No mixer? You need a jar with a lid that screws on properly. Properly. I can't stress this enough.
- Fill a clean jar about half to three-quarters full with double cream, so there's room for it to slosh.
- Screw the lid on tight and shake. It goes thick and quiet, and you'll think nothing's happening. Keep shaking.
- After about five minutes you'll feel a thunk as a lump of butter hits the side, and the jar walls go clear.
- Drain, wash and shape it exactly as above.
The Shropshire Hills Discovery Centre does this with school groups, and it's the best way to get kids to burn off energy. Lara shook hers to the beat of Ayden's piano practice. Ayden wasn't playing. She was humming his piece. Badly. On purpose.
Cultured butter for show-offs
Fancy restaurants serve cultured butter. It's tangier and deeper, a bit like the French stuff in the foil.
Stir 1 tablespoon of plain live yoghurt into the cream, cover it with a clean tea towel and leave it at room temperature overnight. Chill it for an hour or two, then whisk it exactly as above.
It's the same butter, it's just been to university.
Keeping it and using it
Wrapped, in the fridge, it keeps about a week. Well-washed and salted, it can go a bit longer. If it starts to smell sour or cheesy, bin it. That's buttermilk you didn't wash out, coming back for revenge.
Butter freezes beautifully. Wrap it well and it'll keep for up to 3 months. Freeze half and you've got butter for the next emergency crumpet.
Things to do with it:
- Spread it thick on warm bread. The whole point, frankly.
- Mash in garlic and parsley for the herby version that makes everything better
- A knob on a stack of pancakes
- A jacket potato. Aaron says no comment. Again.
And the buttermilk? Soda bread, scones, pancakes and fried chicken all love it. It's getting its own post. It's earned it.
Love the whisking bit? Try a no-churn pudding where you stop whipping much earlier, or the same whisk, pointed at egg whites.
If it goes wrong
It won't split - it's just thick whipped cream? You stopped too early, or the cream is fridge-cold.
Fix: Keep going. Let it warm up for 10 minutes and carry on. It always turns in the end. Patience. Mine ran out at minute six. The cream's didn't.
Butter is soft and greasy? Your kitchen, your cream or your hands are too warm.
Fix: Chill the bowl for 15 minutes, use more ice in the wash and run your hands under the cold tap. Don't make butter in a heatwave. Erin's rule. She's usually right.
Butter tastes sour after a day or two? Buttermilk was left inside.
Fix: Wash it longer next time, until the water is properly clear, then press out every drop. The water should look like a mountain stream, not a puddle.
Buttermilk all over the kitchen? Too fast after it split.
Fix: Slow down the second it breaks, and throw a tea towel over the bowl. Dexter will help with the floor. He's very thorough.
Single or extra-thick cream won't turn? Not enough fat, or it's been thickened.
Fix: Use plain double cream, ideally 47 to 48% fat. Check the label. Aaron already did. Twice.
Butter is too pale? Normal. Winter cream is paler.
Fix: Jersey or summer cream gives a richer yellow. Pale is fine. It's still butter. It's just had a long winter. Haven't we all.
That's it. Cream, a whisk, cold water and a bit of elbow grease.
And if anyone asks who ate the first slice, it was Erin. By royal decree. It's always Erin.
Now go and churn something.
