I too, love a good PBJ. Some years back, someone out there published research saying that peanut butter is now deadly, over long term use, because of toxins activated in the roasting process of the nut. I said, “Just kill me now!” and have soldiered on, enjoying mine mightily, and foisting them on my long- term domestic partner, weekly, in lunches I’m proud to make.

Thus far, except for a rise in my LDL this past two years, my consumption of peanut butter, even by spoonsful sometimes, has caused me no health concerns, and I’m now officially a senior citizen.

I have eaten peanut butter for every meal and snacks in between. I have it straight-up, out of a spoon, as indicated above, sometimes with a smidge of real creamy butter, snaked from the nearby, cobalt blue, glass chicken holder on the counter.

I’ve also put it in myriad recipes, from cakes and brownies to Thai food and Christmas fudge — but nothing outshines, comforts or gives one “Aahhhs” like the good old-fashioned PBJ sandwich…or…open-faced, on toast, warm and gooey, with or without one’s jam of choice. Being from the Pacific Northwest, my faves are apricot, raspberry, and huckleberry…connamon honey is also mighty good!

As a child, the nasty, carcinogenic, hydrogenated vegetable protein-laden butters of today had not yet been marketed, so my mother would buy the oil-on-top stuff and turn it upside-down on the shelf overnight — no one could touch it during this vital phase — The next day, she’d get a table knife, not a spoon, and stir the stuff smooth in its jar, all the way to the bottom…That was cool, but then...THEN, she committed the ultimate peanut butter SIN: she put the jar IN THE REFRIGERATOR (!), where the Great Gooey became Pleistocene STONE, and virtually inaccessible.

I was a skinny kid, but anticipating my usual mid-day craving on weekends (at least, in my lunchbox, the sammy would thaw to edible by mid-morning), I would get the jar and warm it tenderly with my skinny thighs, or against my flat little growling belly, to make extricating it possible for small, but seriously-determined, highly-motivated hands.

I had sticky Wonder bread growing up, that almost has to be toasted to hold together and not be reduced to a gooey bolus before chewing, especially with the rock-hard stuff Mom left us…

As I matured, I grew to love nutty, whole grain breads for mine…even occasionally spiral rye…and peanut butter raisin toast with a good, hot cup of gourmet dark cocoa can still be a blue ribbon adult dinner on a cold winter night, whether it’s snowed yet or not.

So, I thank you for spurring this tender set of memories. I may just go grab a slice of gluten-free seed bread, and have me a gooey, oohey, toasty PB, with what’s left of my morning coffee!