A sammich just isn’t a sammich if it isn’t my peanut butter and jelly sammich. I have sat on the mountain, pondered a selfless otherness and found great strength in the design of the perfect PB&J. Lately, the lunch crowd gathers around the table and squeals with glee as I slowly remove my two breaded babies from their brown paper carrier or zip-lock love pouch. Those French foodies and in-cuisine fetish pundits, who labor over their Sushi and saffron dusted chicken, all strum the same chord and it rings: “that looks really good”. And it’s settled. Everyone would rather be eating a PB&J. At least today. But it’s not fair. Ego aside, I make a mean Sammich. I’ve studied the products, the brands, preformed countless experiments both in density and viscosity. I read the latest trade journals and spend my Friday nights at Byerlys groceries waiting to see what the great inventors of our time have now allowed us to consume and what will be placed upon the “New Products” shelf. Oh man, as a kid that was it! I still remember the morning I came bouncing into Byerly’s with my father, ran right up to the new products shelf and began to take stock of that weeks new inventory, when suddenly, I came face to face with my first childhood love – Marshmallow Fluff by Durkee-Mower, Inc. I’m still emotional about it and not enough time has passed to write about it yet. So, I’ll get back to the PB&J.
Of the three ingredients, The bread is really the most essential product. It sets the foundation and serves as the canvas for your art. Like all things built, a strong foundation is the cornerstone to delivering a solid product. Fuck white bread. Wonderbread? The worst. Get yourself a strong wheat bread, but no nuts, no raisins or other foreign objects or unnecessary ingredients. Pre-sliced is best if you can get it. But get it thin. I’ll have none of that Texas toast. It’s all air. For best results I use “Nasty Bread” a super triple sourdough made locally here in the twin towns. The key thing to selecting your bread is making sure that it can take the peanut butter without crumbling or rolling up with the spread of your PB. I strongly suggest bringing your PB to your local grocer and holding some of your own experiments in the bread Isle. You can usually check out about 7-10 loaves before you start to draw attention to your actions. Plan carefully.
As for the PB, I’d like to say that the natural stuff from the Co-op or nature store is preferable but really it sucks. Sucks hard. They don’t use stabilizers in their PB and therefore you always get the peanuts and the peanut oil separating in the jar, which frankly is O.K. if your making a Thai peanut sauce, but it’s absolutely disastrous if your planning on having a sandwich hold its consistency between the morning when you make it and your lunch break when you actually eat it. Forget the natural stuff and go right to Jiffy or Skippy or one of the low end brands at the Mega food store. These brands I am quite sure make their PB for the express intent of being used in a PB&J sammich. And it’s chunky baby. No smooth PB. That’s just wrong.
As for Jelly’s…I think this is where you have the most freedom to play and create your own style of sammich. Always observe the equal parts rule: no more or less then the PB. The sandwich has to follow strict egalitarian codes. Two slices of bread and two tablespoons each of peanut butter and jelly. Also remember that jam is not jelly. Jellies are preserves. And be careful with seedy jellies. Those seeds can stay with you all day.
Lastly, and so often overlooked by the PB&J novice, cut diagonal or not at all.
If your looking for something to read now that your sitting there enjoy your own sammich. Might I suggest recommendations for airports of the future?