Peanut butter
Today I thought I knew what I would do. But it didn’t work out that way–the needed camera necessary for a trip to the NY Historical Society was hidden somewhere unknown, and with time ticking away, I found my plans unwound into a messy tangle.
Lunch, then, would not arrive with my husband around 1 pm.
So I took a buy one get one free coupon, a friend, and went to 240 Sullivan Street to try Peanut Butter & Co. (hat tip to Peanut Butter Boy for reminding me to go) After all, what magical alchemy inhabited this space where grown adults paid $7ish for a PB&J?
We got the sandwich of the week (creamy peanut butter with strawberry rhubarb jam), and a peanut butter sample platter, all for $7.59. I paid $4.09 (cash), my companion in sticky eating, $3.50. We spent our sandwich waiting time discussing nostalgia, and the process of using nostalgia to sell childhood lunches to not-so-young adults. Even the decor said nostalgia, with old PB paraphenalia, and a strong whiff of sweetness.
The peanute butter sampler came with the equivalent of an entire jar worth of peanut butter. After trying each, declaring some well-balanced and others strident, we split up the flavors, base-ball style, and took them home.
I decided my spicy PB needed to grace my dinner table, and stopped at Whole Foods for some bread, plus green beans to accompany dinner, and fish and hoisin sauce for tomorrow’s meal. A grand total of $10.87 (credit). I wish there were a grocery store closer to my house. While I’m wishing, I’ll wish for more time so I can go back to making my own bread which doesn’t squish up during slicing.
Tonight’s take home message comes smooshed between two slices of whole wheat: make your own.