Peanut Butter

Black and white illustration of an indestructible food: Teddy's Peanut Butter.

“A consistency like that of an ointment…”

I’m willing to bet that you have a peanut butter story. Everyone does. Maybe not a super entertaining story, but a story nonetheless. Perhaps you always got a PB&J in your sack lunch for school field trips, or you made a peanut butter and pinecone bird feeder in kindergarten. (Extra points if it had a red yarn loop for hanging.) You may have eaten ants on a log at summer camp or smeared peanut butter on saltine crackers at your Grandma’s house. Peanut butter toast! Peanut butter cups! FLUFFERNUTTER SANDWICHES! 

The point I’m driving at, albeit in an extremely roundabout way, is that peanut butter has become foundational to American childhood. You can find peanut butter in 91% of American households! 91%! I’m pretty sure that’s the first time 91% of Americans have agreed about anything, and it may be the last, but that’s depressing, so let’s move on.

The history of peanut butter begins with the Inca, who were grinding nuts into a paste hundreds of years ago. If we fast-forward to North America in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, we’ll find a new set of folks attempting to invent a ground peanut spread for the modern day.

In 1884, a Canadian chemist/pharmacist named Marcellus Gilmore Edson obtained a patent for his peanut butter. It was a wonderful food for people with dental issues, which many folks in the late 19th century apparently had. His process involved dry-roasting and grinding peanuts and sounds pretty similar to what we do today. However, he described the product as having the texture of “an ointment”, which we all know is an absolutely terrible way to sell peanut butter. 

A year later, in the United States, a doctor named John Harvey Kellogg was experimenting with another peanut butter prototype. His process involved boiling the nuts, then grinding them into a paste. “Boiled nut paste” seems less than delicious, but it did have a few virtues: Like Edson’s creation, it provided valuable nutrition to the ill and the toothless. It was also a protein-rich alternative to meat.

“That’s very progressive!” you might exclaim. “Raising meat is tough on the planet and we should all eat less of it!” That’s very true, but Kellogg had a different point of view. His concern was that meat sparked carnal desires and lead to sinful sexual excess. His hope was that peanut butter could help curb these disturbing inclinations toward physical intimacy. (To put your minds at ease, I’ll say here that it has since been proven that it’s possible to eat a lot of peanut butter AND have a lot of sex. Phew.)

In less sexually frustrated peanut butter news, Dr. Ambrose Straub (That’s right… ANOTHER medical professional) patented a machine for making peanut butter in 1903. If you didn’t have access to a cool peanut butter machine, Good Housekeeping magazine had another idea: Just run peanuts through your meat grinder at home! DIY peanut butter was born.

The First World War solidified the idea that peanut butter was a food for the masses. Although there was no formal meat ration, public campaigns encouraged people to eat less meat. “Meatless Mondays” emerged, and peanut butter could help fill your family up. “Supporting the war effort” was a much more popular angle than the whole “don’t have any sex” thing. More households than ever gave peanut butter a try.

This was all fabulous, but beneath the pasty glamour, there was a dark side. If you left a pail of peanut butter on a store shelf for any length of time, the oil separated and rose to the top, where it went rancid and spoiled everything. Shopkeepers were advised to stir their peanut butter stock frequently with wooden paddles to keep the oil integrated. This was a total pain in the butt, and the shopkeeper’s arms got super tired. Something had to be done!

Luckily, by 1921, a man had solved the peanut oil separation fiasco. Joseph Rosefield filed a patent for a process called partial hydrogenation which converted the oil in nut butters from being liquid at room temperature to being semi-solid at room temperature. This meant that the oil would not separate! Peanut butter could remain a harmonious whole! Shopkeepers and peanut butter lovers everywhere rejoiced.

We talked a lot about childhood at the beginning of this article, so I’d like to discuss one final innovation that allowed peanut butter to become the kid-friendly household staple it is today: In 1928, sliced bread was invented, and while many things since then have been “the best thing since sliced bread,” none of them have been better. Without the hassle of cutting bread into pieces, kids could venture into the kitchen, ravenous from the exertions of childhood, and MAKE THEIR OWN PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH. Nothing would ever be the same…

Saltines

Black and white illustration of an Indestructible Food: Premium Saltines!

“The Swiss Army knife of crackers.”

Modern life comes with a lot of perks, not the least of which is a dazzling array of crackers from which to choose. I could wax poetic about the virtues of Cheddar Cheese Goldfish or the intoxicating appeal of Wheat Thins (and someday, I probably will) but our hero for today is the humble Saltine.

This is truly the Swiss Army knife of crackers. Saltines can be used to stretch a meatloaf recipe, top a casserole, make a pie crust, coat fried chicken, sandwich peanut butter, crumble into soup, or even settle an upset stomach. They are the perfect platform for cheeses and spreads. In a pinch, they can even be used to catch minnows or make catfish bait. There are sexier crackers, sure, but you’d be hard-pressed to find one as serviceable.

The history of the Saltine begins in the late 19th century, when innovations in milling and industrial baking had contributed to a cavalcade of crackers. Bakeries across the country were developing new and tasty crackers at every turn. The F. L. Sommer & Company of St. Joseph, Missouri was one such bakery. In 1876, they created a cracker that used baking soda to help leaven a thin white flour cracker. They were called soda crackers or Saltines. And they were a revelation. Business for the company quadrupled! 

It wasn’t just F. L. Sommer & Company who was having staggering success with crackers. The sheer amount of cracker currency changing hands across the nation caught the attention of entrepreneurs, and a series of mergers began. On the east coast, several bakeries were joined to create the New York Biscuit Company. In the midwest, 40 more bakeries united to form the American Biscuit Company. Then, in 1898 the whole shebang was smashed together into the National Biscuit Company, which would eventually be known as Nabisco. 

This series of mergers allowed for the standardization of the cracker industry. Until then, crackers were a generic product, sold out of barrels in general stores. Folks would often have to take them home and toast them in the oven so they’d be crisp again. Listen, the people wanted crackers, not another chore! The National Biscuit Company solved all that by making big investments in packaging and advertising. These served to protect and promote a cracker’s most important characteristic: TEXTURE! So began decades of ads showing people running sleeves of Saltines under the faucet or dropping them in streams before biting them loudly to demonstrate that they were still crisp. (As someone who isn’t crazy about mouth noises, I find this tactic incredibly annoying.)

Perhaps the best advertisement for Saltines was the Great Depression. Suddenly, people needed a way to stretch their food budgets. They were watering down soups and trying to make one portion of meat feed a family of six. Saltines were the answer. They were a cheap carbohydrate that could stand in for a lot of the average household’s missing ingredients. Those lean years transformed a crunchy snack into a household necessity. 

It turns out that those old ads got it all wrong. The texture of Saltines, as pleasant as it is, was never the most attractive thing about them. Their strength lies in their simplicity–their ability to fill a plethora of culinary roles without ever stealing the spotlight. Saltines are cheap as heck and you can eat them 1,000 different ways and to me, that’s a perfect food.

I’m gonna go make a batch of crackerflitter, but I’ll leave you with a wish for the New Year: May you never run into a problem that Saltines can’t solve.