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BloombergBusinessweek October 7, 2019like in your mind, whereas so much butterjusttastessort
of waxy, like fat and salt,” she says.
Ofallthe50,000itemsforsaleintheaverageAmericangro-
cerystore,butteris oneofthesimplest:creamthat’schurned
toseparateoutthebuttermilk.It canbecultured—fermented
with live bacteria to bring out tangy notes—orsalted.That’s
pretty much it. And yet, according to theIrishDairyBoard
(rechristened Ornua Co-operative Ltd. in2015), salesof
Kerrygold products have increased by doubledigitsinevery
one of the past nine years. Volume soared 30%in 2018 alone,
and growth is now humming along at eighttimesthepaceof
the butter category overall. What on earth isKerrygolddoing?“I guess you could say that Ireland kind of skippedtheIndustrial
Revolution.” I’m in a car with two Ornua employees,oneof
whom is reflecting aloud on Ireland’s landscapeandeconomy,
which both remain dominated by agriculture.We’rewind-
ing along lonely roads on the way to a dairyfarminCounty
Waterford, along the country’s
southeast coast.
Dairy is big business here.
Buttermaking inIreland dates
back 6,000 years, and in the
19thcentury, the Cork Butter
Exchange was the world’s larg-
estbuttermarket.Thecountry’s
mild,wetweatherproducessome
oftheworld’sbestgrass-growing
conditions, which has made dairy
a natural export industry. In 1961
the Irish government set up the
Irish Dairy Board, which created
the Kerrygold brand the following
yeartoboostthevalueofIrishdairyexports.(It’sbeensoldin
Ireland,too,since1973,andis currentlythecountry’sbest-
selling butter brand.) Two-thirds of the landinIrelandis still
used for farming, and 80% of that grows grass.Todaythecoun-
try has one dairy cow for every 3.6 citizens,withonly10%of
the bovine output consumed domestically.
Three hours after leaving Dublin, we arriveatthehomeof
Tom Power, a young farmer with sandy blondhairdressedin
blue jeans and Wellington boots. He’s one ofmorethan14,000
Irish farmers who supply milk to Ornua, a cooperativeowned
by Irish dairy processors, which are, in turn,ownedbythe
farmers. It’s a misty day, and we’re surroundedbyfieldsan
electric, almost surreal shade of green. Wepileontoa tractor
to see the cows, which Power moves every 12 hours,sothey
alwayshavefreshgrassinfrontofthem.Heshowsmeanapp
onhisphonethatkeepstrackofhowmuchgrassis onhisfarm
andwhichpastureshavethegreatestvolume.“It’slikelooking
at how much money is in your bank account,”hesays.Right
now, he’s a rich man: This has been a superioryearforgrass.
Unlike in the U.S., where 100% grass-fedproductionrep-
resents only 1% to 2% of dairy farms, in Irelanda grassdietis the
norm. Irish cows benefit from the longest grass-growing seasonin Europe: They graze for as many as 300 days each year. In the
winter months, they eat primarily fermented grass known as
silage. Public policy plays a role, too. Ireland’s Department of
Agriculture closely monitors each farm’s stocking rate, ensur-
ing they don’t raise more cows than they have the grass to
feed. With enough pasture available to support the cows, buy-
ing grain to feed them would amount to an added cost, with-
out the added benefit.
Aftervisitingthe Powerfarm, we travel 30 minutes
downtheroadtoseewherethebuttergetsmade.I’mhalf-
expectingquaintartisanalwoodenchurns;instead,werollup
toKerrygoldPark,a highlyautomated€38million($42mil-
lion) facility capable of producing as many as 50,000 tons of
butter per year. As we put on protective hairnets and scrub
our hands with antibacterial soap, Norma Hanlon, the cus-
tomer relationship manager, tells me that they churn butter
here only from March to October, when the cows are out graz-
ing and the cream is therefore at its best. That’s a hard-and-
fast rule, and the facility must
make and freeze enough in this
period to satisfy demand year-
round. My visit coincides with
peak grass season, and the place
is running full tilt.
On the factory floor, we watch
the churn spin like a cement
mixer doing double time, as a
technician swaddled in ster-
ile coverings samples the but-
ter, analyzing it for fat, salt, and
moisture content. The butter
flows out the consistency of cake
frosting, coursing through a net-
workofpipestobe stamped into bricks, wrapped in foil,
boxed, and chilled.
Among both the amateur and professional cooks I spoke
with, the prevailing theory to account for Kerrygold’s creamy
textureis thatthebutterhasmorefatandlessmoisturethan
mainstreamAmericanbutters.ButKerrygoldunsaltedbutter
clocksinat82%butterfat and the salted at 80%, the U.S. legal
minimum. Harold McGee, the food science expert and author of
On Food and Cooking, says the type of fat plays a much more sig-
nificant role than the amount in texture and baking properties.
Robert Bradley, a professor emeritus of food science at the
UniversityofWisconsinatMadisonandanexpertonbutter,
backsthatup.Hesaysanytimea coweatsfreshgrass,it cre-
atescreamhigherinoleicacidandconjugatedlinoleicacid,
heart-healthyunsaturatedfatsthatareliquid at room tem-
perature. In cream from animals fed grain, however, satu-
rated fats dominate, which makes for a stiffer, more brittle
butter. (The manufacturing process affects texture, too, but on
that front, Bradley says, there’s little difference among today’s
mainstream processors.)
What about flavor? Robustly flavored European but-
ters are often cultured—inoculated with a bacterium that PREVIOUS PAGE: PHOTO ILLUSTRATION BY 731. PHOTO: GETTY IMAGES. THIS PAGE: PHOTO: COURTESY ORNUAButter inspection at Kerrygold Park