If there was a sudden and immediate world decree that peanut butter was being outlawed, I would be fine with this. I always make sure to buy chunky, even though on some level I hate the stuff. But I eat it anyway. I hate the after-aroma when I have a p.b. & jelly sandwich, so I always immediately wash my face, brush my teeth, take a swig of mouthwash and suck on breath mints, and then wash my face a second time. I have to rid myself of the memory. Then two or three days later I succumb again, and the process of self-loathing, cleansing and breath-minting repeats. It’s complicated. I know I was amazed when Jack Nicholson and Michelle Pfeiffer ate peanut-butter sandwiches in Mike Nichols‘ Wolf.
