I am not a complex person. I'd like to imagine myself a cook, but really, I can slice tomatoes and make them look pretty with basil and cracked pepper. Sure, I can whip up an omelet and I've been known to roast a chicken or douse a piece of fish with one hell of a white wine and caper sauce, but do I seek out the food, do I seek out new recipes, do I experiment, do I drool over food processors and cookbooks? No. No, I order out. I also have yet to go to the Hollywood Farmer's Market, despite having lived near Hollywood for three months now. When I was in graduate school in the Midwest, I went to the town's farmer's market twice in three years. What a shame, considering the Amish were kind enough to sell their sweet corn at a 25 cent discount. But I digress.
Anyway, I guess what I'm saying is that I'm a short-cutter, and one of my short cuts is the fresh nut butter (*snigger*) you can buy at Whole Foods, where the yuppies go. Tubs of peanuts, almonds, and other mixed businesses wait patiently for you to flip a switch and then out it gloops: freshly nut-buttered nut butter (nut butter!) . Oh, but Daniel Deronda, it is Divine. The Divinity of Divinities. Fresh and nutty and peanut-buttery and thick and grainy and it barely makes it home because I can never contain myself: the car rides from Whole Foods tends to include a pack of organic sliced apples (short cut), a tub of nut butter, and a woman in ectasy. That woman is me.


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Seriously, thanks for planting the seed of a craving. I will likely find myself amid the throng of nut-butter zombies clogging the parking lot of my nearest WF.
Never underestimate the power of word of mouth advertising, especially when that mouth is watering with anticipation.
I'm about to lapse into a Homer Simpson like anticipatory reverie, so I need to go find something to read that takes my mind off food.
Thanks for the delicious distraction.
(yes, that's real gold and velvet on the Award.)
Like you, I've been know do dive into the almond butter on the car ride home. That's how I always eat this nectar of the gods---straight---no bread or crackers to get in the way---although sometimes I stuff figs with it---and for a while I was smearing it on Trader Joe's "Flat Bananas," until I figured out that each bite was close to a billion calories.
If you don't have access to, or don't want to go to a Whole Foods, try your local food co-op. They almost always have at least a few nut butter grinders set up.