Earlier this week, I went grocery shopping without a list, and I forgot to buy peanut butter. It’s odd not having peanut butter in my house. It’s a cupboard staple and a childhood memory. Twelve years of peanut butter sandwiches in Ziploc bags. Cookies with the fork cross-hatches on top. Getting to be the one to eat the peanut off the top of a brand new jar of Squirrel.
Almost every book I read about eating vegan and vegetarian warned against overcompensating your diet with peanut butter. It’s a good source of protein, wonderfully versatile, but it’s fattening, too. A single tablespoon is 100 calories (but a favourite midnight snack). However, peanut butter was already a big part of my diet, long before I stopped eating meat. So much so that I bought a jar tonight, even though it wasn’t on sale.
The kind of peanut butter I buy today has a single ingredient on the label: peanuts. It’s the kind of peanut butter you have to mix before you can spread–the oil floats to the top. I ate toast tonight while watching curling. Tomorrow morning, I’ll add a spoonful to my oatmeal with chia seeds. If I hadn’t made pumpkin ginger soup today, I probably would have made spicy peanut noodles for dinner tomorrow.
Next week. That’s why I buy the 2 kg jar.