I love French butter. We discovered it in Paris, naturally enough, and it’s perfect butter. Creamy and delicious with just the right touch of salt. We ate it on croissants at the little café around the corner from our apartment and on crusty baguettes from the boulangerie next to the laverie (laundromat). It was sheer paradis sur terre (heaven on Earth). I’d never really appreciated butter of any kind before that trip to Paris because my mom bought margarine and that’s what I grew up on. My grandmother had butter at her house and I recall thinking it tasted…oily. And because the size of my butt has been an issue my…