Well, Paint Me Green And Call Me Gumby!

I  drank buttermilk, and I liked it. I needed some to make ricotta. The milk didn't smell too bad, so I took a sip. I had memories of Grandma Z persuading her grandson and granddaughter to try it, and both of them upchucked into the sink. I was expecting nastiness, but it just tasted like buttery milk.  The next day I added it to cake frosting, and this morning I mixed a bit in with the scrambled eggs. It was finally pointed out to me that I bought low fat, thus it lacked that blobby globbiness. I don't think I'm brave enough to try the other kind.