Some things just go together — they seem to be made for each other.
Like thunder and lightning, Starbucks and lattes, Peter Pan and Wendy, or Oreos and milk.
When I was pregnant with my second child, I was trying to save money, so I ate my lunches at work in my office.
Soon, I found myself keeping a loaf of bread, peanut butter, and strawberry jelly (PB&SJ) readily available. I thought it practical; because it was cheap, and something I could keep easily at work.
When I thought about it, I couldn’t really remember the last time I’d eaten a PB&J sandwich. I loved them as a kid, but I’d pretty much outgrown that phase of my life.
I was sophisticated now after all. Grown-up people don’t eat PB&J.
In fact, it wasn’t until the day I sat at my desk and ate three entire sandwiches, I realized I had a problem. Ha! Apparently, (now so obvious) I was experiencing pregnancy cravings.
I have to say, while I don’t snarf them down like I did then, I still have great appreciation for a good PB&SJ sandwich.
So, I was somewhat caught off guard when my son (the in utero PB&SJ eater) told me he wanted a jelly sandwich for lunch.
What’s a jelly sandwich? “You mean a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
“No; just jelly.”
OK; I believe something is missing in this equation.
Jelly is perhaps fabulous as a standalone item on a biscuit, or perhaps even a piece of toast. But a jelly sandwich? It just doesn’t seem right.
Peanut butter happens to be the perfect companion for the jelly, and technically makes it the meal by providing both the protein and healthy fat.
The first known reference of PB&J on bread was in the 1901 edition of the Boston Cooking-School Magazine of Culinary Science and Domestic Economics, written by Julia Davis Chandler.
Because PB had proved during the Great Depression to be such an excellent, cheap source of protein, during World War II, soldiers’ rations included PB&J and pre-sliced bread. By the end of the war, PB&J sandwiches had become wildly popular, and were a common staple in American households.
But, apparently, my child has blatant disregard for the history — and therefore — appreciation of PB&J. And, since these days, I’m just happy to see him eating at all, I guess jelly sandwiches are a thing now at my house.
For, despite my better judgment, I made him one, and he sat down and devoured every crumb … no problem.
But that got me thinking. Despite the early history of both PB (which made its original debut at the 1893 World Fair) and jelly (which goes back to at least the first century), it took until around 1945 before PB&J were marketed together and sales skyrocketed.
In fact, PB was first paired with cucumbers, cheese, celery and crackers. All good; all perfectly acceptable.
But it can’t be denied that PB has one true love, and that’s jelly.
While it’s true, sometimes things may be just fine on their own, finding the perfect partner — one that complements you in every way — is something never to be overlooked.
I like to think of my family as a PB&J sandwich.
By myself, I’ve always been a good, standalone condiment. But, some things just were made to go together.
And, yes, perhaps we are simple and ordinary; but, over the years, we’ll never run out of style. We are — in fact — the perfect combination.
“No; just jelly.”
OK; I believe something is missing in this equation.
Jelly is perhaps fabulous as a standalone item on a biscuit, or perhaps even a piece of toast. But a jelly sandwich? It just doesn’t seem right.
Peanut butter happens to be the perfect companion for the jelly, and technically makes it the meal by providing both the protein and healthy fat.
The first known reference of PB&J on bread was in the 1901 edition of the Boston Cooking-School Magazine of Culinary Science and Domestic Economics, written by Julia Davis Chandler.
Because PB had proved during the Great Depression to be such an excellent, cheap source of protein, during World War II, soldiers’ rations included PB&J and pre-sliced bread. By the end of the war, PB&J sandwiches had become wildly popular, and were a common staple in American households.
But, apparently, my child has blatant disregard for the history — and therefore — appreciation of PB&J. And, since these days, I’m just happy to see him eating at all, I guess jelly sandwiches are a thing now at my house.
For, despite my better judgment, I made him one, and he sat down and devoured every crumb … no problem.
But that got me thinking. Despite the early history of both PB (which made its original debut at the 1893 World Fair) and jelly (which goes back to at least the first century), it took until around 1945 before PB&J were marketed together and sales skyrocketed.
In fact, PB was first paired with cucumbers, cheese, celery and crackers. All good; all perfectly acceptable.
But it can’t be denied that PB has one true love, and that’s jelly.
While it’s true, sometimes things may be just fine on their own, finding the perfect partner — one that complements you in every way — is something never to be overlooked.
I like to think of my family as a PB&J sandwich.
By myself, I’ve always been a good, standalone condiment. But, some things just were made to go together.
And, yes, perhaps we are simple and ordinary; but, over the years, we’ll never run out of style. We are — in fact — the perfect combination.
