In Response to a Certain "Lauren"...

So last post I explained ever so carefully how to make your very own Peanut Butter Toast, complete with Nutella and Jam. I hope the Paint picture diagrams helped.

Then some wiseacre out there, with the pseudonymous label "Lauren," had this to say in the comments:

Lauren said...

Ewww! You like PEANUT BUTTER?!?

And so to this "Lauren" I ask: What is that, some kind of sick twisted joke?

Honestly. I don't even understand the words.

Fess up, or risk my Smooth & Creamy wrath.

How To Make Peanut Butter Toast

Step One: Toast your bread. What kind of bread? Good question. NOT Rye. Caraway seeds are tiny little explosions of putridness. Instead, how about a nice 12 Grain? Any Whole Wheat variety is good. For special occasions, I like anything with Oatmeal or Nuts... Today, I use Country Kitchen "Oatnut."

Step One-point-five: Make sure you toast your slice at around Medium-High. Enough to get a nice crisp to things, but nothing too dark. And we're not just warming our bread up here. Toast means it's toasted. Turn that dial up, please.










Step Two: Remove toast from toaster. Don't burn yourself. Patience, geez! Let it sit there for, like, three seconds. No need to be hasty.

Step Three: Begin with a smooth, thin layer of Nutella down the middle, vertically.












Step Three: Smear a good portion of peanut butter over each remaining half, overlapping a tad with the nutella. Now--and this is important--the peanut butter must be natural. No hydrogenated oils, please. Teddy's is a great choice. The Smucker's Natural is actually better than expected. Smooth or Chunky: AYW (as you wish). I'm not entirely without feelings, you know.












Step Four: Fill in the hazelnut-less halves with a smattering of jam. I like blackberry or raspberry (with seeds!). If you're feeling up to it, go for an Apricot. Marmalade is an advanced maneuver... proceed with caution. Only under the most dire of circumstances will I abide by Grape Jelly. Think about the repercussions of your actions for once.












Step Five: Split vertically down the middle, so that each half has a bit of Nutella on each side. Then, dunk in coffee and enjoy. Behold, the finished product!

The salty of the peanuts, the sweetness of the jam, the warmth and creaminess of the Nutella, the subtle crunch of the toasted bread... a more perfect combination of flavor I do not know. Be gentle and kind with this knowledge. Now go, and eat toast.

"That is No Way to..." #1

To the Asian sir on the subway train traveling north yesterday: That is no way to eat a burrito.

The burrito itself looked adequate, above-average even. Good helping of shredded chicken, some black beans, rice with maybe a hint of lime. Nice skein of guacamole. But first was the Bite Size. Whoa, man. The mouth cavity is only so big for a reason. To lunge at a burrito with such ferocity, tearing at it with ripping incisors, goes against all things digestive. I like to eat my food, not destroy it. Now if the burrito had it coming, I understand. But maybe the burrito was just defending its manhood. Maybe the burrito was projecting its own low self-image onto you. Does that give you the right to attack it like that? Does it? Huh?

I've gone off-track.

Here's the point: You can eat a burrito however you wish. That's fine. But what is not fine is eating one while listening to your iPod. Have you ever chewed something with ear buds in? It sounds like you're walking through an underground tunnel with heavy boots on over bubble-wrap. And you're on the train, anyway. Can you really hear your music over the screeching brakes and whooshing noise?

Then he pulls out his flip-phone. With one hand, he's texting back a friend. With the other, he holds the poor foil-wrapped burrito, and collapses his face onto it again.

Listening to your iPod while texting your friend on a subway train taking gigantic bites: That, Asian guy, is no way to eat a burrito.