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Once upon a time there was a young lad named Jack who lived with his mother in a sparsely populated village in a cottage nestled in a gently rolling valley.  At one point, Jack and his mother were very needy, but the newly publicized health-values of milk changed all that. 

Jack spent many an hour peddling milk from the family cow, Erma in the local village. 

One hot summer day, Jack had a flat tire on his bike while on his way to the village, and unfortunately, his cache of milk soured.  Alone and frustrated, standing by the side of the road, he was greeted by a wind-bent, elderly woman whose face contained more lines than the sea has salt.

To make a very long story a bit shorter, Jack explains his frustration to the old woman, "My milk is all sour.  You couldn't even make a good batch of butter out it now."

The old woman silently brooded and thought, "Hum, buttermilk.  That's a catchy name.  Wonder what that would taste like?"

Acting as if she intended to help Jack, she told him that she would be glad to take the soured milk off of his hands in exchange for a handful of magic beans.

"Magic beans?" Jack asked, scratching his head and a bit confused, but rather intrigued.

The trade ensued and the old woman went on to make the most delicious buttermilk in the county, running Jack and his mother completely out of business.  But our diet bedtime story does indeed come with a happy ending, for Jack went on to plant his magic beans which grew into a massive beanstalk.  At the top, he found rooms filled with green beans - beans that never dried up and held their fresh texture all tended by a very happy green giant.  Better yet, green beans were a dieter's delight among the villagers, holding a minimal of calories - a most-preferred bean.

Jack was able to sell as many beans as he could haul to market each and every day.  He and his mother greatly prospered until one day when Jack met a man carrying a bag of magic corn to town....  But that - that is another story.