Some people love Jesus. Some love Buddha. Some people love their spouses. Others, money and tasty li’l sluts. But more than anything (except for my wife, dog, and 11% of the people I know), I love the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
It is a thing of beauty, a nearly perfect food. It is filling. It is sweet AND savory. It can serve as breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner. A dessert or a late-night snack. And while it is not particularly “healthy,” it is somewhat wholesome.
Now, you know that I’m not one to hyperbolize…but I believe that the peanut butter and jelly sandwich is the greatest single thing in the history of the world, ever. That said, peanut butter, jelly, and bread a perfect sandwich do not always make. And I am quite particular about the ingredients in and construction of my PB&J. If you don't mind, I shall explain...
I start with robust wheat bread (something with no fewer than 4 grains and no more than 23). Ideally the bread will be at room temperature, providing a soft, but not too soft, palette for the robust innards. If, however, the bread has been refrigerated, I will put it in the toaster for 10 seconds, no longer. I do not want toasted bread. I cannot stress that enough. Toasted bread is not what I'm looking for here. After the bread has reached the desired temperature (70-72 Fahrenheit), I begin by applying the peanut butter evenly on one slice of the bread. This seems an appropriate time to explain that I buy only all-natural 100% free-range peanut butter--chunky. Sure, ‘tis a tad more expensive, but it delivers the most peanutty flavor possible, and I can feel good knowing that the peanuts were buttered humanely. On the other slice I apply in exact ratio a layer of strawberry preserves. It must be strawberry preserves. Once again, I cannot stress this enough. For ease of conversation I say “jelly,” but what I actually mean is "preserves." And don’t even get me started on grape jelly. It has no place in this equation. I'd rather have my dog take a runny dump on a loaf of white bread than put grape jelly on my PB&J. Anydoodle, next I place the peanut butter slice on top of the jelly slice. Now, I understand that some of you still eat like you're 5 years old. And this would be the point at which you could cut off the crust. I, however, like the crust. Gives the sandwich character.
(Tenuous segue alert!) But apparently there is a large market for people who desire crustless sandwiches but do not have the technical knife skills to perform such a culinary maneuver. So, in 1999 the good people at Smuckers (I only assume that people who make "jelly" for a living are inherently good) patented the method for creating a crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich (patent no. 6004596). It has been a very controversial patent, and since that time the patent has been appealed and overturned. I recently stumbled across the official patent documentation (during my pursuit to read the US Patent registry straight through) and thought that the following passages could prove useful for my fellow PB&J-ophiles. A greater explication and defense of crustless sandwiches the world has nary seen (I have highlighted in blue my favorite portions):
SUMMARY OF THE INVENTION
A primary object of the present invention is to provide a sealed crustless sandwich that will overcome the shortcomings of the prior art devices.
Another object is to provide a sealed crustless sandwich that does not have any crust.
BACKGROUND OF THE INVENTION
Many individuals enjoy sandwiches with meat or jelly like fillings between two conventional slices of bread. However, some individuals do not enjoy the outer crust associated with the conventional slices of bread and therefore take the time to tear away the outer crust from the desired soft inner portions of the bread. This outer crust portion is then thrown away and wasted. There is currently no method or device for baking bread without having an outer crust. Hence, there is a need for a convenient sandwich which does not have an outer crust and which is not prone to waste of the edible outer crust portions. The present invention provides a method of making a sealed crustless sandwich which (sic) can be stored for extended periods of time without an inner filling from seeping into the bread portion.
A sealed crustless sandwich for providing a convenient sandwich without an outer crust which can be stored for long periods of time without a central filling from leaking outwardly. The sandwich includes a lower bread portion, an upper bread portion, an upper filling and a lower filling between the lower and upper bread portions, a center filling sealed between the upper and lower fillings, and a crimped edge along an outer perimeter of the bread portions for sealing the fillings therebetween. The upper and lower fillings are preferably comprised of peanut butter and the center filling is comprised of at least jelly. The center filling is prevented from radiating outwardly into and through the bread portions from the surrounding peanut butter.
For a look (through the lens of Smucker’s Corporate Marketing) at the history of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, click here. And as usual, please post any of your thoughts, feelings, or PB&J preferences/recipes. Crust? Crustless? Strawberry? Grape? Apricot? Chunky? Smooth? Better than Jesus?
9 comments:
Oh, and I know I said I wasn't going to post until five caption entries did I receive, but I think we all know that wasn't going to happen. Controlbot wins!
Alas, my victory by default is somewhat unfulfilling. Much like my peanut butter sandwiches of late, having run out of both jelly and honey.
Thank you, Controlbot. I completely neglected to mention honey, which definitely deserves a place in this discussion. Personally, I am a HUGE fan of the PB&H. Which reminds me of another issue: milk. A cold glass of milk is an essential accoutrement, if you will, to the sandwich. Other accoutrements include, but are not limited to: potato chips, cheetos, and carrot sticks.
I myself am a large fan of the PB&J, but from time to time I find myself wanting to spice up life a little. With that in mind I will enjoy a Peanut Butter and Honey, or a Peanut Butter and Marshmellow Fluf sammy. I may be the only person in the world who likes the fluff, but dadgummit it is delicious.
I also would like to touch on the idea of 100% free-range PB. I think that free-range peanut butter has significantly smaller flavor profile than that peanut butter that is produced from peanuts which are forced to grow in small boxes and not allowed to move for months. This not only produces a much more tender nut, but also allows the fats to work into the nut and therefore packs much more flavor.
I personally like to add a tad bit of danger with my PB&J sandwich, that is why I currently have a stock pile of Peter Pan Peanut Butter that people have "reported" caused them to get extremely sick. I say good for those people getting sick, it leaves more Peter Pan for the rest of us.
As with the matter of jelly, jam or perserves there is only one type and one type only and that is of course Grape. I know that some might disagree with this, but to them I tell you that you are wrong!
And finally maybe I am the only one that does this, but I like to smush my sandwich together and try and get it as thin as possible and by doing so infusing the peanut butter, the jelly and the bread.
Firstly: I agree with you, Rowboat, that tiny-box-raised peanuts are the most tender. I just can't handle the sound of their screams. Haunting. Truly haunting. Secondly: cubuff, while I disagree with your inexplicable penchant for grape, I respect the hell out of your passion for the sandwich. And though I do not subscribe to the practice, I do understand the attraction of smashing.
Cob Sawyer I have got a story for you -- it is a sad story. What happened is one day in fourth grade at school lunch I used to sit at the table of guys that would have probably been considered the "cool" table. Not really out of any genuine coolness on my part, but because that was where my best friend sad. But one day I sat down with them, and they were all eating pizza except for me -- I had brought my lunch -- and I reached in the paper bag and realized I had gotten a bit too aggressive with the jelly portion of my PB&J, and now the smuckers was bleeding through the white bread like a leaky wound. Precisely as I was examining and sort of laughing about this sandwich, one of my lunch table mates stood up with his trays and moved to a different table, followed by everyone else, including my friend. I sat there for a minute, then quietly moved to a different table, and there I ate my PB&J sandwich.
Thanks for bringing up bad memories, sawyer
(sniff)
Jesus, nutter butter. That's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. I'm actually pretty close to crying.
The thing that my dear husband forgot to mention is that he has the rather unfortunate habit of being unable to prevent the preserves from coating every (and I mean EVERY) surface in our humble abode. From my hairbrush to the toilet handle, I have encountered the super-sticky goodness. (Yes, I realize both items are found in the bathroom, but that just proves my point. Why would PB&Whatever ever need to be in the bathroom?)
Post a Comment