For the Love of PB&J

I'd always thought peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were a rite of everyone's childhood.  I mean, what else (besides a chocolate-covered pretzel, of course) could create the perfect combination of sweet and salty?  What else could withstand a half-a-day inside a sweltering sandwich bag in an un-air-conditioned cabin in the unparalleled heat of summer camp, and still be just as tempting and delicious as it was when your mother packed it that morning?

Little did I know, there are actually people out there that don't like peanut butter and jelly, or (gasp!) who have never even tried it!  Really?  My American-centric brain made me forget that peanuts are not native to many other countries (if any at all, actually, but I can't verify that right now), and, like cranberry sauce (weird comment, I know, but after searching high and low one Christmas in London for it, I finally found an exorbitantly-priced, imported bag of Ocean Spray whole berries to make the concoction myself) are not necessarily available in the abundance that we see them here.  My husband, being from England, is one of those that has never tried PB&J, and he has sworn to never let the combo pass his lips without a gun to his head first.  Not like it's not found in the UK, because it is, but again, it was not a rite of childhood for him.

My mother really surprised the heck out of me recently when she confessed to actually not liking PB&J.  I really have nothing to say about this.  There are no excuses for that, especially when she grew up in the "middle-America" small towns found in Pennsylvania and South Jersey.  Besides, she made it for me!  For that I am grateful, as I have always loved it.

PB&J is Samantha's favorite food.  The first time she tried it was when she was 2 1/2, and we were at our local DSA holiday party.  I had been holding off until she was 3 for her to try any nut products, as food allergies scare the crap out of me (even though we have absolutely no family history of any), but her pickiness made feeding her that afternoon a real challenge, and I was desperate for something simple.  And there it was.  Just begging me to say, oh, to hell with the American pediatric guidelines.  So I did.  And I watched her very carefully, but all I saw was pure love.  And then all I saw was the ability to keep and transport food that she actually liked, easily.  Hooray!!! 

Recently Sammi has decided she no longer wants her usual breakfast of toasted frozen pancakes, and only wants peanut butter and jelly toast, so I toast one slice of bread, cut it in half, and put the peanut butter on one side and jelly on the other.  I can't complain about the protein aspect of this, and it makes her happy.  And isn't that what it's all about?