My First Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich

For the longest time, I refused to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When I was younger, I thought that classic kid-friendly sandwich would be gross because I did not like jelly. The idea of combining jelly and peanut butter on a sandwich seemed even grosser than jelly by itself. My go-to sandwich growing up was just a plain peanut butter sandwich on white bread. Even though I now like jelly, I still haven’t had the urge to try that sandwich.

When I told people that I had never eaten a PB&J sandwich, people were outraged. If someone were in the process of eating one, many people would shove the sandwich in my face and desperately try to make me take a bite. When I refused, many of my friends immediately offered to make me one of my own. Even if they did not have jelly, peanut butter, or bread left, people offered to immediately go buy all of the necessary ingredients. Interestingly enough, if a different friend offered a certain kind of jelly, others would yell back, outraged at the suggestion of a different kind of jelly. This inevitably would open up a debate about what kind of jelly, what kind of peanut butter, and what kind of bread make the best PB&J. Not only were the ingredients debated, but the manner of spreading the ingredients and the method of cutting the sandwich are all very important to PB&J lovers. I never realized how strongly people felt about a fairly common sandwich.

My guess as to why particularly college-aged kids are so passionate about the PB&J sandwich is that there are many memories from childhood that relate to it. The PB&J seems to be one of the classic comfort foods from childhood, one that is still acceptable to eat occasionally and easy to make throughout adulthood. People seem to be clinging onto those precious memories of when their parents would make them a PB&J, spreading the ingredients with love and cutting the sandwich just the way that they know you like it. Most people would be judged if they pulled out a Lunchable at work, but somehow a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is acceptable, especially when accompanied by an excuse, such as “I was in a rush this morning.”

Although I enjoyed the fun fact about myself that I have never had a PB&J, I was convinced to try the sandwich a few days ago. My friend made two identical sandwiches: one for me and one for him. According to him, the only correct way to make a PB&J is to use Jif Smooth Peanut Butter, Smuckers Strawberry Jam, and some sort of Italian white bread. The jam has to be spread first (or else the peanut butter contaminates jam jar) followed by the peanut butter, both spread with care and attention. Then the sandwich has to be cut into four squares, definitely not the four triangles that result from cutting the sandwich diagonally.

I was very nervous to take that first bite. I was worried that I wouldn’t like it and would offend my friend. After the first bite, I was confused and still thought it was a weird combination. By the second square, I understood the appeal. It was good but I already wanted to take my own crack at the equation. When I mentioned that I would want to try it on wheat bread, my friend was horrified. I also suggested almond butter as an alternative. He found this even more outrageous. I have yet to try it, but next time I go for the PB&J sandwich, I will make a raspberry jam and smooth almond butter sandwich on whole wheat bread cut into 2 diagonals. I have come to think that everyone’s favorite PB&J says more about who you are as a person than what your favorite type of jelly is. My first PB&J was good, but I am even more excited to try a PB&J with my own twist.