My mom made great peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Skippy smooth peanut butter and Welch’s grape jelly on Wonder bread. Always. Her method of application was no doubt influenced by the Great Depression in this country that she lived through.
There were some carry-over traditions that mom utilized such as, instead of a candy bar, if we wanted something sweet, she took a single slice of white bread lightly spread with room temperature butter and sprinkled with sugar on top. This is what we got to satisfy a mid-day sweet tooth. But it was the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was her work of lunchtime art.
Three slices of bread were used. The first slice was evenly spread with Skippy, right up to the crusts. The second slice was then placed on top and it was spread with a thin coating of grape jelly, again, to the crusts. The third slice was placed on top and the sandwich was then cut crossways, corner to corner, into four triangular pieces.
When my cousin came over to play, we would always have these sandwiches for lunch with a glass of milk. Once, and only once, while at my cousin’s house, we asked his mom to make a PB&J sandwich.
Being less skimpy, as well as artistic, Aunt Bonnie glopped the peanut butter in the center of the slice of bread followed by another huge glop of grape jelly (I guess those foodstuffs were standard in a 1950’s cupboard) then she placed another slice on top and pressed down combining both ingredients into a purple and brown schmutz that oozed out between the crusts of bread onto the plate.
The sandwich was, in comparison to my mom’s, more generous. Peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth as portions of grape jelly gathered on my fingers and chin and dripped onto my tee shirt. This never happened with my mom’s thinly spread, bread-slice secured, separately layered, tiered creation.
Mom was a traditional homemaker of the 1950’s and a great cook. She made apple and cherry pies from scratch using the fruit from the trees that grew in our back yard. She made standing rib roasts, pot roast and other culinary delights around the holidays and special occasions. Sunday meals took hours of preparation beginning after our return from church. But it is her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that figure predominately in my mind.
I guess it was because they were made especially for me when I came hope from school for lunch or during the summer months when I played with friends in the yard. At least twice a week I had them and maybe that’s a reason it has a strong tie to my childhood. It was a constant, a stabilizing factor to be relied upon.
I tried making one of those sandwiches like mom made a few years ago being certain I used Skippy smooth peanut butter and Welch’s grape jelly on Wonder bread. I prepared it according to her specifications and quantities and I even cut it corner to corner into four triangular shapes and although it brought back memories, it just didn’t taste the same. It was missing one important ingredient. Her love.
