Confessions of a Peanut Butter Addict

Home Cook'n Subscriber, Sandy Haas, sent in this delightful essay for our enjoyment. Thanks Sandy!

Confessions of a Peanut Butter Addict

I find some comfort in knowing there are others who share this weakness of mine...I'm not alone! Try as I might to resist when making lame attempts at dieting, it's not long before my self control is being tested...the jar with "Crunchy" in large print beckons me and in most cases, my self control is the loser. The insatiable craving I have for peanut butter contributes to the bitter downfall of my dream for thin thighs. On occasion I have even asked for the aid of my spouse in helping me steer clear of the peanut butter jar...however, I do not recommend this tactic since it becomes a source of irritation when the "helpful spouse" continues to take this responsibility quite seriously even after you've changed your mind.

I've found myself having to creep into the kitchen for a late night snack, like an intruder in my own home, climbing onto the counter to locate the jar which my husband nicely placed on a high shelf out of my reach as "a favor". After retrieving the jar with some sense of guilt, opening the lid without making a sound became a bit of a problem in itself; thank goodness the peanut butter manufacturers saw fit to change from glass to plastic jars...they make much less noise when trying to sneak your snack! It never ceases to amaze me how the sound of a clattering peanut butter jar lid can travel; my husband would call out from another room (in my best interest of course, but with a bit of sarcastic tone), "Honey, what are you doing?" With that I'm forced into the little white lie which follows, "Oh, nothing" to cover my weak moment. I do not condone "little white lies"; so in order to avoid that situation I had to resort to running the kitchen faucet during my excursions for a peanut butter fix.

I'm relatively certain this weakness for the spreadable peanut sensation is shared by multitudes. Perhaps there could be a future for peanut butter therapists if one feels the calling to help others who wish to regain some self-control. Don't misunderstand, in moderation I feel peanut butter is a healthy snack, but that old potato chip commercial which proclaims "betcha can't eat just one" sort of applies to peanut butter as well in my opinion. With age and a slowing metabolism, the fat content of peanut butter just doesn't mix well with thunder thighs, and with each satisfying spoonful I think to myself "I should go for the carrot sticks next time"...but I never do.

I would tell my "therapist" it all began during my childhood as I watched my mother eat her peanut butter & pickle sandwiches. Peanut butter was always in abundant supply in our household and could be served with virtually any food group. When I first moved away from home, my mother would faithfully mail care packages to me containing jumbo jars of peanut butter; that and the 49 cent boxes of macaroni & cheese sustained me throughout my college years. I'm afraid this addiction is a familial trait, for while visiting with my siblings I have met my sister a time or two in the kitchen at midnight as she was replacing the jar on the shelf. With sheepish grins, we'd pass in the night.

Although a peanut butter addiction is one of the more pleasant types (if one must be cursed with an addiction), it has its defeating & guilt ridden moments. If you think you may have this addiction and there ever comes a time when you want to embark on some serious dieting, take my advice:

Admit your weakness!
Don't buy the stuff or have it anywhere in your house: the jar will win every time!