Busy days, beautiful weather, and peanut butter

Peanut butter, mayonnaise, and lettuce

Have you ever tried it?

I have been overwhelmed, in a nice way, with projects that landed on my desk—the ongoing, bit project is the Alamo book, but I’ve also been trying to promote Gourmet on a Hot Plate, write a book review, make Christmas plans and wrap some presents, and get ready to pack for a few days at one of my sons’ houses. All this is a left-handed way of apologizing because I haven’t blogged regularly. I hope it will get better, but the days ahead look hectic—and lots of fun.

And so much for Jacob who asked if I just sit out here at my desk and scroll through Facebook all day. Or Christian, who suggested that the reason I worry about weeds, etc., is because I have more time on my hands to think about such things. I told him no. I’ve always been that way.

Today was a beautiful day, and I set out to do a grocery curbside pickup. Such a pretty day I went my usual route on the zoo road—just when the zoo was disgorging all the people who had spent the lovely day there. Gridlock. Then I went to a drive-in to pick up a barbecue sandwich for supper—and got behind an SUV of people who didn’t know what they wanted and spent way too long studying the billboard menu, holding up the whole line. And I swear I hit every long red light—me, who goes back roads to avoid red lights! It was an exercise in patience, but I’m glad to report patience won.

My exciting discovery of the day came when I found an article certifying the peanut butter, mayonnaise, and lettuce sandwich as a southern food. It was like the sandwich which I’ve eaten all my life had suddenly been given legitimacy. So the story goes, the sandwich was developed during the Depression when meat was dear and scarce. Peanut butter provided needed protein. I remember an internist telling me he’d rather I ate peanut butter than steak because I’d eat so much less.

A local food historian told me today that she believes there are some foods that southerners tend to eat more of—pimiento cheese, for instance—but she doesn’t think there are any distinctly southern foods. Still, the internet disagrees with her and has labeled the sandwich southern. I grew up in Chicago eating such sandwiches—one of my sons loves them, but the other kids turn up their noses, and I haven’t tried it on grandkids.

Making the sandwich should be a no-brainer, but if you need directions, you can find them here: https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/136568/peanut-butter-mayonnaise-and-lettuce-sandwich/

Ever have those middle of the night thoughts? The other night I thought of two things I wanted to check on the computer. I’m not the kind to pop up at three a.m. and check the internet. Besides I told myself I’d remember. Next morning, I did remember one of the things—a book for one of my sons. But the other eluded me—and still does. It was a word, a noun I’m sure, and it began with an H, I think. But all I can come up with is Hanratty—he was a famous murderer, so I don’t think that was it. I’ll keep thinking.

Cold tomorrow. Bundle up if you go to church.