Peanut butter: God’s greatest gift to humankind. Need I say more?
The answer is no, I needn’t say more, but we all know that I am, in fact, going to say more, whether it’s welcome or necessary or even possible–I will always find more to say.
I mean, “humankind” was okay on its own, and Niagara Falls and the Taj Mahal were decent, but God saw that there was a total lack of peanut butter and kind of gasped at his empty-headed error, making sure to quickly amend this atrocious absence. So that’s why he went back in time and invented peanut butter first (well, he didn’t invent peanut butter first; first, he invented the universe just so that peanut butter had a place to exist, then he did all the rest), and then created humans from peanut butter, from the source of perfection itself. (Is that a bit dramatic? Nah, I don’t think it’s dramatic enough, actually.)
I suppose I’ve loved peanut butter my whole life. We go waaaayyyy back. I guess since it was such a part of my life, though, I never really learned how to truly appreciate it until recently.
As a child, I consumed an uncalled for amount of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. At least one a day. I mean, I was a picky eater, and PB&J was easy to make (not that I made my own PB&J sandwiches… Thanks Mom). Every day. So I got used to how it all tasted and wasn’t really impressed anymore after a certain amount of time, but still ate it because I really had no other options.
Once I got older, I started making my own sandwiches of course, and I vowed that after I graduated high school, I would never consume a PB&J sandwich again. I was absolutely sick of them. That can happen to a food when you eat it every day for a decade.
Wouldn’t you know, once I got my own place, I succumbed to the temptation of how easy–so easy!–it is to make them. I mean, you need three ingredients and a butter knife, and you can be innovative if a butter knife is asking too much. It’s cheap, quick, easy, you can pack it without a cooler… Damn if I didn’t eat a PB&J sandwich just yesterday. You caught me.
But this isn’t about jelly, or sandwiches. It’s about peanut butter.
I just have to say, that if you like crunchy peanut butter, then you’re really not doing it right. If you want peanuts, buy peanuts. There is no need to chew something like peanut butter; you shouldn’t have to work for something that provides so much pleasure. Then the nuts get all stuck in your teeth and one will catch the back of your throat and it’s just more trouble than what it should be to choke and die from peanut butter when you should be swaying with glee instead. And really, no one does it like Jif. Creamy Jif peanut butter or bust. And I don’t have much of a bust to speak of so it’s creamy Jif peanut butter for me.
Anyway, there’s something about how it’s a little salty but a little sweet… Thick and creamy… And it tastes good in combination with so many things. Seriously, it will enhance the worst and the best. It makes the best better!
Chocolate. Chocolate is the best. But peanut butter makes it better. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that there is scientifically no better combination than chocolate and peanut butter. I will argue this until the day I die. I will lose sleep to argue this. I will sacrifice time and money. I will sever family ties to defend this point. I will never waver on this, when the honor of the Great Chocolate-Peanut Butter Combination is at stake. (And if we’re talking about who does it best, I have to say that Daffins peanut butter chocolate bars are unquestionably the best execution of this best combination.)
But it doesn’t stop there! Peanut butter is good with bananas, jelly, carrots, apples, celery, ice cream, cookies, cupcakes, French toast, pancakes, crepes, crippling depression, granola bars, pretzels, brownies, debt, strawberries, toast, bagels, and bowls of nails. I mean, there is nothing that doesn’t taste good with peanut butter. (…What’s that? You said it doesn’t taste good with what? Sorry, I can’t hear you; see, this only works one way–I write, you read. You don’t get to respond. You have to take my word and not argue. Huh? The connection is bad; sorry-not-sorry, I’m losing you…)
I think the only reason I even eat apples is that so I have a vehicle for my peanut butter. I’ll be all, “Huh, I really want some peanut butter”–and I’m not such a fiend that I can eat it by the spoonful, but I am enough of a fiend to have my apple-to-peanut-butter ratio be 1:5–“I think I’ll have an apple” (which really means, “I think I’ll have a peanut butter-saturated slice of apple”).
I’ve been eating a brownie before and looked at it quizzically, suddenly struck by a thought… What if… Oh wow… Yes, brownies with peanut butter “frosting” are quite a success for the ol’ taste buds.
The best part about peanut butter is that there is no cooking required. You buy it and it’s ready to go; no games, no hassle, no drama, just unadulterated “yumminess.” Just you, peanut butter, and the open fridge… The whole kitchen at your disposal.
So, what shall it be today–peanut butter and eggs? Peanut butter and popcorn? Peanut butter and rice? Can’t go wrong any way, so long as I’ve got my PB: my pure bliss.