Today is National Peanut Butter Day?
So they say.
Well I decided to share with you my connection to the lowly peanut, and the butter we make from it.
Forty-five years ago (tomorrow!) I acquired a wonderful, brand new husband. Never looked back. However, it wasn’t long before we were sharing a tad of morning sickness and he had the cure!
It was not something I would have chosen to swallow that morning, not at all. It sounded gross.
But his enthusiasm (plus the fact that he could stand up without fainting and I could not) won the day.
I found myself eyeball to eyeball with a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup and the most amazing combination of foods I could ever imagine in a sandwich.
It was not even a good color combination, and the aromas from it were less than what a newly prego lady would want.
However, it all was served to me while I was still in bed, and with such youthful exuberance, I had to smile to myself at the awesome idea of this young man serving me, his young bride, breakfast in bed with such a hopeful expression, no matter WHAT the menu.
So I sipped on the soup, for starters. (Soup is supposed to be the first course, anyway, I remembered from home ec class.) The soup was fine. He actually knew how to open a can of soup, dilute it properly, and warm it without boiling it over; a factoid worth mental note, indeed.
And he was truly caring and attentive, I also noted, with pleasure.
But the sandwich!
It was time. I had to take at least one bite. How on earth could anyone be so callous as to ignore any part of this loving offering, right?
So I took a bite. I chewed.
The unbelievable flavor combination of white bread, peanut butter, and dill pickle awakened my taste buds to a new world.
And I’ve never looked back
Happy 45th, a day early, Sweetheart! ❤