PB & J...and Tabla

Can we just talk about the world's most ancient, most tried and trusted combination in the history of America? More so than chocolate and peanut butter, more so than french fries and nuclear-orange colored cheese. There is nothing more comforting (at least to me) than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Sometimes when I am home and it's too soon for dinner, I will make a snack from Wasa crackers, peanut butter and jelly. The Wasa crackers because they are slightly lower in calories than a slice of whole grain bread, but at the same time, they are crisp and crunchy and there is something satisfying about biting into one of them.

The only thing wrong with peanut butter is how your breath smells when you're finished eating it and how the perfume of it seems to linger on your fingers long after you've washed up. I am one of 'those' who eats peanut butter with a spoon right out of a jar. I've started mixing it up, jelly-wise. Since the strawberry preserves of Bonne Maman were not at Gristede's both times I recently visited, I bit the bullet and tried Wild Blueberry, which was rather satisfying in itself, though strawberry is my favorite.

I'm trying to be healthier and eat more natural peanut butter, which, so far has been successful. The only downfall of the natural kind is that the oil separates and looks less than enticing when you open the jar. But it's always nice to not have preservatives.

There is a shop called Peanut Butter & Co. in the West Village, that I have been dying to check out. My brother brought me a peanut butter shake from there two summers ago and I drank it down so quickly that I got a cold headache. That's certainly on the agenda this weekend when brother comes home for my mom's birthday. And we have MASA reservations. There will certainly be a post on that!

This is restaurant week and so was last. Mumsy and I went to Tabla, my favorite restaurant in the city. I had the chickpea chaat with "moog" lentils and the scallops with lentils and bacon. Mom had skirt steak and cod. Floyd Cardoz was there and I waved him over to say hi and he remembered me from the last time I was dining there TWO summers ago with Natasha! He commented on the fact that neither of us had ordered the oxtail and when we said we really wanted to stick to what we had, he sent over a full portion of the oxtail, which we gladly devoured. No shame in that at all. Desserts were lovely, though I should have stuck to the traditional Vanilla Kulfi, which they do so well over there. It was accompanied with a rose-rosemary sauce which was SO incredibly subtle and sweet and flavorful. It really made a mockery of my mango lassi kheer. Now I know to stick to tradition, though I avoided the chocolate tart with pistachios and cardamom this time. Sigh. I could eat there every single week.