Memories of Peanut Butter

"Man cannot live by bread alone; he must have peanut butter."
James A. Garfield

One of my earliest memories involves eating peanut butter. In my very first posting I mentioned having always had a penchant for snacks, and right from the beginning, peanut butter was at the top of the list.

During the year that I was four years old I religiously followed a pre-lunchtime activity which involved tasty peanut butter sandwiches. And because I subsequently attended kindergarten in the afternoons only, I was able to carry on this tradition for the next year as well. In the good weather, anyway.

Most days I would enjoy the adventure of walking down to the corner to watch for my Dad who would be coming home for lunch. Because it seemed so far away to me, and the length of time was so hard to judge, apparently I was a little worried that starvation might set in before I could return home. So, my mother very kindly always made me a peanut butter sandwich - one slice of Wonder bread spread with peanut butter, then folded over, cut into two squares, and wrapped in wax paper. No Zip-Lock Baggies back then.

My Dad worked at the Sheaffer Pen Company and he always came home for lunch. Except, in those days we called lunch 'dinner' and dinner we called 'supper'. And lunch/dinner really was our dinner- it was the biggest meal of the day. We would always have some kind of meat, potatoes (boiled, baked, mashed, or scalloped), and a tinned vegetable such as peas, green beans, corn (or creamed corn), and sometimes beets.

Always potatoes. Never rice. Never pasta. Back then these dishes would have been way too exotic to have been considered. Although I do remember Mom getting a very cool 'potato ricer' once. Probably as a Christmas or birthday present, as Dad was big on the small appliances. It was a manually operated stainless steel gadget; you put peeled and boiled potatoes into the ricer then pulled down the handle and a flat paddle pushed the potato out through a multitude of small holes and into a serving bowl. And - voila! How exciting! You had the best of both worlds - you got to experience a new dish (eating rice for dinner) and also the deep seated comfort that came from really eating potatoes.

OK, so back to my pre-lunch tradition. Every warm and dry day I would head out about 11:30 and walk all the way from our house (at one end of our block) to the corner which was at the very far end of the block, to wait for my Dad. And when I say 'far', that is from my four year old self's perspective as the block consisted of about 7 small houses with a vacant lot in the middle of it. Although, it really did seem like quite a hike for me at the time.

And it wasn't without risk that I made this daily journey. The third house on the block had an extra door on the front whch had been boarded up for some reason and, naturally, we neighbourhood kids terrified ourselves by believing that a hideous witch lived behind that door. So I walked leisurely down the street each morning, observing what was going on around me, but sprinting madly past the 'witch house'.

It was always a thrill to get past that house, of course, but even better still because then came the vacant lot because quite often there were horses or ponies walking around, munching away on the long grass. You see, the house on the other (and safer!) side of the lot was owned by a man who kept and raced horses. It seems so strange now to imagine such a thing, but this was a small town in a rural area, and in the late fifties it seemed quite normal.

The next three houses had young children like myself so I had to allow for spontaneous play times. Because as long as the weather was good, children played outside. There were no 'play dates' or being driven hither and yon by parents. No way. Your only choice of friends was the kids on your own block - like them or not. And it does seem unusual now to imagine mothers urging very young children to 'go outside and play', but that is the way it was back then. We really had complete freedom to do whatever we wanted, as long as we didn't leave the neighbourhood. That was understood. We just went out, met up with the other kids, and then used our vivid imaginations to create fun games. It was an unwritten rule that we would report back home at meal times, and when the street lights came on in the evenings. But the rest of the day was ours.

And speaking of mealtimes, what great memories I have of those peanut butter sandwich fuelled morning adventures. At the end of the long and fascinating trek to the end of our block, I would sit down on the grass of the boulevard and open my little packet. I would sit there and quietly nibble away on my little sandwiches while staring down the street for the first sighting of my Dad. It always seemed to take so long! But, eventually, I would see his blue Studebaker swing onto the street. He would approach the corner slowly, always smiling and waving to me. Then he would stop the car and let me hop in, and drive us both back home for our hot 'dinner'.

Since then I have probably eaten about a million peanut butter sandwiches, either plain or toasted, or on a crusty roll. Or enjoyed peanut butter on crackers, in celery, in stir fries, in Pad Thais, or in cookies or various chocolate bars. And one very memorable time, back in the seventies, my friends - Joyce and Peter - entertained me on a warm summer day in their home by the beach. They had made a beautiful peanut butter cake from scratch and had served it quite generously along with a large pot of the most perfect, piping hot tea. Now, that was an experience to remember.

But I would have to say that my very best memory is of carrying those little packets of peanut butter sandwiches all the way to the corner, and of all those fun (and scary) adventures I had along the way.

Cheers!

Diane

Recipe for Peanut Butter Cake

Because I doubt you'd be very excited about duplicating my little sandwiches, I am giving you a recipe for a Peanut Butter Cake. I can't imagine that it could possibly equal Joyce and Peter's amazing cake, but it seems far less decadent and more in keeping with our current times. Personally, I am going to whip up this cake, along with a couple of handfuls of chocolate chips on top, and enjoy it with a nice, hot cup of tea.

http://www.dairygoodness.ca/recipes/peanut-butter-cake?Wt.srch=1&gclid=CIKeqduk5J8CFd4D5QodJUJFGg


(Both this week's photo and recipe are courtesy of "dairygoodness.ca". Thank you!)

An Egg-cellent Twist on an Old Favourite

"Remember, people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions. You may have a heart of gold, but so does a hard-boiled egg."

-Anonymous (unfortunately!)

Some years ago, back in Goderich - my very small home town in Southwestern Ontario - I found myself seated amidst a group of strangers, at a long wooden table, in the basement of a church. We were all there for the 'lunch' following the funeral of an elderly woman we had known.

Now I can't speak for the rest of the world, but I do know that in small towns in Southwestern Ontario, the funeral lunches put on by the 'church ladies' seldom varies. There is coffee and tea served in dainty little tea cups, plates of plain celery and carrot sticks, a variety of small sandwiches (egg salad, tuna, and ham - all cut neatly into triangles) and a few trays of assorted cookies. Maybe even some gooey squares if the church ladies were feeling ambitious.

Well, we had 'enjoyed' our meager lunch and had endured the post-funereal chatterings with total strangers and yet, somehow, it felt a little rude to simply leave. And so, probably more out of boredom than hunger, the older woman across from me said - to no one in particular - "Welllllll.........I'd really like another ham sandwich, but I just don't feel like walking all the way across the room for one." At once, the very gentlemanly gentleman to her right chirped up. "Oh! I have an egg salad sandwich here which I haven't even touched and I would be happy to give it to you." "Why, thank you," replied the woman politely (but with a slight grimace), "but I just hate egg salad sandwiches."

But then, judging by the look on her face, she must have mentally heaved her body off the wooden chair, shuffled clear across the room to the food table and back, and had simply found it far too great an ordeal. She sighed a great sigh all of a sudden, then turned to the generous gentleman with a coy smile and said, "Ohhh.....maybe just a half!"

In many a church basement I've enjoyed those little sandwiches myself, and that is a very good thing because as an almost life-long vegetarian, they are always my only choice. But, I have to say, with all modesty, that the church ladies' offerings could not hold a taper to the deliciously upgraded version which I just recently created.

One evening last week I had made some hard-boiled eggs and decided to save two in order to make egg salad sandwiches for my lunch the next day. In the morning I started thinking about what I could add to make the sandwiches a little more nutritious and a little more interesting. Suddenly I remembered that I had some shredded carrots (about half a cup or so) left over from another recipe. I thought that sounded tasty and would add nice colour and texture as well.

But carrots are a little sweet and mayonnaise is rather sweet so I needed something that would add a bit of savoury zing. Well, fortunately my partner, Mark, always keeps a stash of olives in my fridge so I was happy when I saw the jar of queen-sized pitted olives stuffed with pimentos. What a nice combination, I thought; these will be delicious sandwiches. And indeed they were!

Because these delightful, crunchy sandwiches contain the addition of both green olives and shredded carrots, I have coined the name "Oliot". And whenever I say that word, my mind's ear hears only the highly memorable voice of "E.T." calling stridently for his earthling friend!

I hope you will give this recipe a try and let me know how you like it. This is what you'll need to do:

RECIPE FOR OLIOTS (Makes 2 or more, as you wish....)

2 hard-boiled eggs
1/2 cup shredded carrot
6 queen-sized pitted green olives stuffed with pimento
mayonnaise to your taste (always use real mayonnaise, the results are superior)
prepared mustard to your taste
season with salt and fresh cracked pepper, to taste

Place 2 eggs in a saucepan half-filled with water and place on high heat. Add 1 tsp salt and 1 tsp vinegar to the water. Watch the pot carefully until the water begins to boil, then turn the heat down to medium. Now it's time to watch the clock - for exactly 15 minutes. Then, remove the pot from the heat, place in sink and run cold water into the pot until the water in the pot has become cool. Leave the eggs alone for at least 15 minutes. Then, crack the shells and carefully peel them off, placing the hard-boiled eggs into a bowl. Mash them up finely with a potato masher and/or a fork.

Mix the rest of the ingredients into the eggs with (preferably) a wooden spoon. Spread some of the mixture onto a slice of nice, fresh, whole grain bread. Season with additional salt and pepper to taste. Top with fresh alfalfa sprouts (more nutritious and more flavourful than lettuce) and another slice of bread.

These tasty Oliots can be served two ways: either spread quite liberally on thick, rustic bread to make 2 large deli-style sandwiches, or spread thinly (conservatively?) on more delicate bread and cut carefully into cute little triangles that would make a church lady proud.

Cheers!

Diane

PS: Please check out this "egg-cellent" site for wonderful egg recipes and so much more:

http://www.getcracking.ca