Every week I like to whip up a batch of butter. I skim six or so gallons of milk and add the cream to my electric churn. Years ago I read that if the butter seems slow in coming you should sing this song:
Come butter come
Peter’s at the gate
Wants a butter cake
Come butter come
Insert your name and sing to the tune of your choice.
You can see the butter has separated from the buttermilk.
I line a colander with fine cheesecloth and run cold water over the yellow lump to wash out all the buttermilk. Periodically, I'll wrap the butter in the cheesecloth and give it a good squeeze.
The final step is to shape the butter into a brick and wrap it in parchment paper. It then goes into the freezer.
Waiting for Thoreau 
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