There’s no excuse for what I did last week.
I can only plead for mercy and argue that I too have my weaknesses, though not many, of course. But there is really no way to explain away the fact that last Monday (though I have been an adult for lo these many years, and surely should know better) at exactly 11:58 a.m., on an unseasonably cold day in March — I deliberately and knowingly (as far as I can remember) spread the jelly first on the bottom slice of bread of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and then, though in what passes for a rational and sensible state of mind, I persisted in trying to spread the sticky peanut butter on top of the slippery jelly as no reasonable person has or would ever attempt to do in his/her right mind.
And this, after years of motherhood in which PBJ sandwiches constituted the primary school lunch box ingredient for our three children, although in the third case in strict alternation with dry cheese sandwiches for about four years. Granted, that was many years ago, and those children are now making PBJ sandwiches for their own children (hopefully with the peanut butter on the bottom), but still.
I don’t know if you believe in coincidences, but it has to be one that three days later an article appeared in the Washington Post about — peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “John Kelly’s Washington” apparently had discussed this solemn subject previously (I don’t remember reading it but don’t trust me on that, especially these days) and tackled it again with reader responses. Not even touching on the practical value of putting peanut butter on the bottom, he discussed the health issue of whether to put the spreading knife into the peanut butter first or the jelly. The consensus, which I agree with, is to put it first in the peanut butter, and then into the jelly, avoiding the problem of jelly bits spoiling in the peanut butter that is stored in the cupboard, not the refrigerator. Not that jelly spoils quickly, but better safe than sorry.
Anyway, the question remains, why, with all my golden years and maternal experience to guide me, would I ever, even absentmindedly, put the jelly on first? The only answer I can come up with is that the devil made me do it.
I’m pretty sure that he is also operating in the next thing I am going to do, something unforgivable which will haunt you for at least the next day or two. None of us needs this temptation but here it is anyway, and I advise you to get it out of your system right away, so you can go on to other things, like whether to buy up toxic assets from the banks. (Another problem the devil probably had a hand in.)
I am going to share with you a recipe that just came over the Internet for a chocolate cake that can be whipped up in two minutes and “baked” in the microwave for only another three. This will produce in five minutes a one (or two)-person chocolate (or devil’s food) cake that is not the best of its kind I have ever eaten. But it’s not the worst either.
5-Minute Chocolate Mug Cake
4 T(ablespoons) flour, 4 T. sugar, 2 T. cocoa.
1 egg, 3 T milk, 3 T oil
3 T chocolate chips (optional but why in the world wouldn’t you?)
A splash of vanilla
1 large (not huge) Microsafe coffee mug
Add dry ingredients to mug and mix well. Add the egg and mix thoroughly. Pour in the milk and oil and mix well. Add chips and extract, and mix again. Put mug in your microwave and cook for 3 minutes at 1000 watts. The cake might rise over the top of the mug but don’t be alarmed. Allow to cool a little and loosen from the sides with a knife and tip out onto a plate (if you like to be civilized.) Eat.
Just out of curiosity I’d like to hear from any reader who has been able for, say, a whole week, to resist trying this out. If so, you are one remarkable individual! By the way, it can serve two, but the devil would prefer you to eat it all by yourself.
Maude McDaniel is a Cumberland freelance writer. Her column appears on alternate Sundays in the Times-News.
Maude McDaniel - Living
The devil made me do it — two culinary sins
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