the great peanut butter caper

Our story begins about a year ago when I decided to give up refined sugar for Lent. It was in everything, I found, even savory things like spaghetti sauce and peanut butter. During that time, I attempted to make everything from scratch since sugar-free was more expensive at the store. But my attempts to make peanut butter were messy, tasteless, watery, and ultimately useless.

Of all the almond, cashew, and other nut butters I tried, none compared to Smart Balance with the yellow lid. It was sweetened with agave, I didn't have to stir or refrigerate it, and the taste was amazing. When Lent was over, I continued buying this peanut butter and returning to it faithfully to flavor my favorite sandwiches, add to savory sauces, and use as dip for finger foods.

A few months ago, I made a pact with myself to start eating oatmeal every morning. I've developed almost a dependence on it for energy and sustenance, and the variety of toppings keeps my palate interested. But one thing is consistent: peanut butter is to oatmeal like mozzarella is to marinara; they can't live without each other.

Until one morning, that is.

That's right. My morning oats were missing an essential building block, but I guess I survived. When The Peanut Butter Caper returned my yellow-lidded peanut butter, however, I had only enough for a few more bowls. So I searched high and low for the yellow-lidded Smart Balance in the meantime, coming up empty-handed at one, two, three, four, FIVE stores. And then it was gone.

That fateful night at my grocery store, I studied each peanut butter diligently. This one had refined sugar. That one had too much sodium. Another was packed with oil. Finally, through the peer pressure of another couple giving me the stink eye for monopolizing the peanut butter, I picked one and went with it, a natural brand called Smooth Operator from Peanut Butter & Co, a company I'd heard good things about. (Yes, research was involved.)

My approval of Smooth Operator only increased with each bowl of oatmeal, each smear on my apple slice. It was so creamy and rich! By this morning, you'd better believe I was excited about this peanut butter, famished because I'd run the night before. I measured my oats carefully, chopped my banana, and squeezed my honey on top of them, and readied my spoon for the main event.

But The Peanut Butter Caper had struck again!

Luckily a kind kind coworker responded to my desperate text and brought me a bit from her home or else my oats would have been naked again, and the special part of me God so specifically created for peanut butter would have been itching all day.

My Dear Peanut Butter Caper, I love you from the bottom of my heart. You are my favorite person in the entire world. What's yours is mine and what's mine is yours, even Smooth Operator peanut butter. But I don't think you want to mess with THIS again. Capiche? Unable to keep a straight face, LB