Butter Bodega

The Eddy is a corner store with Breton appeal

WORDS Ninette Paloma

Like millions of people around the globe, I have a butter obsession. Swirled into morning oats or tossed over steaming noodles, it plays a leading role in every recipe I have ever cared to roll up my sleeves for. So strong is my commitment to the pleasures of dairy gold that last spring I journeyed to the birthplace of my favorite brand, to a tiny french town named Saint-Malo that clings to the Breton seaside and where Jean-Ives Bordier churns out silken peaks of butter with artisanal precision. Armed with a soft-sided cooler and stackable ice packs, I was determined to return home with a one-month supply of the cultish Le Beurre Bordier.

When the hotel I checked into got wind of my butter pilgrimage, they fell expertly into step and assigned a “beurre butler” to whisk me down to Bordier’s dairy cave and atelier, where paper-wrapped slabs of velvety butter flavored with seaweed and smoked sea salt and Roscoff onion lined one side of a cool stone wall. In a vintage glass case, pastries and creamy caramels and aged cheeses tugged at my attention, but I sashayed toward the butter and began to fill my basket. That evening, my selections were delivered to my room in perfectly packaged, vacuum-sealed bundles. I may have curtsied at my butler in delight. At home and ten days later, the butter was gone – surrendering to warm Santa Barbara sourdough and Spanish rice and shortbread cookies that melted on the tongue. I feverishly began to plot my return.

And then The Eddy arrived. Two blocks from home, my new neighborhood corner store promised all the pragmatism of a New York City bodega, the charm of a Parisian épicerie, and the familial vibes of Santa Barbara. When I heard they had also included a specialty butter section, I rushed through my morning tea and power walked over on opening day. 

Past jars of Rubirosa pasta sauce and organic cotton swabs I went, weaving around baskets filled with heirloom tomatoes and baguette sandwiches; to the left of the eco tampons, a chest freezer stocked with artisan popsicles and a tray of french butter: Isigny Ste. Mere and La Conviette and the familiar rustic bricks of Le Beurre Bordier. Brittany’s finest had landed in Santa Barbara, nestled between buddha burritos and McConnell’s ice cream; I could actually hear the reverb of my two worlds colliding.

The french have over a dozen slang words to describe money, but once you have experienced a smear of demi-sel Bordier on a crusty baguette, you’ll understand why “butter” makes the most sense (i.e., she dropped some serious butter at the Jake and Jones sale last week). With expert merchandising and a savvy mix of cosmopolitan flavors and culinary nostalgia, The Eddy is definitely money. Head over, and leave some butter for the rest of us, s'il vous plait.

The Eddy  137 E De La Guerra St. Santa Barbara, CA 93101