Thursday, November 13, 2008
Peanut Butter and Marshmallow Creme
My mother-in-law and I were talking, not long ago, about how our sense of smell carries such strong memories. I completely agreed with her, and told her that I would recognize the smell of my grandma's house any day. There are so many smells that we don't even realize have strong affiliations until we smell them. A whiff of Youth Dew perfume takes my right to my grandmother's sofa, where she would sit and visit with us for hours. The scent of Baby Magic shampoo takes me to the hospital where my four, freshly washed infants were placed in my arms. And the smell of cinnamon toast in the oven takes me back to my mother's kitchen when I was a child.
But while our sense of smell may bring back the strongest memories, food can certainly bring back some very pleasurable ones as well. I've been thinking about a lot of my favored comfort foods lately -- I guess I'm in need of some serious comforting. I have so many favorites, but none as easy to make as this one. This is a treat I enjoyed as a child, but only when I visited my grandmother, my father's mother. I think my mother and her mother were a little too practical to indulge in marshmallow creme -- it was a treat only found in my grandmother's cupboard. And when we visited, we were treated to thick layers of peanut butter and marshmallow creme spread on white bread.
Today, in my own home, my high school son frequently asks for this in his lunch. And, whenever I make a sandwich, I always remember my grandmother's house. And once in a while, when I pack his sandwich in the evening, I have to make an extra half, just for me. The best foods nourish, not only our bodies, but also our souls.