Peanut Butter Lovin’ (Spain’s First Peanut Butter Party)

Peanut butter is a passion of mine. It is right up there with salmon and ice cream (those three together sound really gross, but individually are heavenly). In Spain there is no such thing as peanut butter, so Holl (the best mom ever) packed me a little tub-o-PB in my suitcase. I decided that I would wait for the right moment to come before breaking into my stash. I thought either tears or something catastrophic would have to occur and then I would indulge in a little PB therapy. I got through three whole weeks without a morsel of the stuff. Well, today was the day. I had just.. ugh.. one of those days. A lot of it I cannot really explain.. but Caitlin can attest, I had my share of turmoil this morning.

Well I guess I will try to explain the situation a little. I was innocently walking to school when I needed to go to the bathroom. So I walked into a little café where I was told I needed to buy something when I realized I had not a eurocent in my possession. Thus began my hunt. I did circles and circles around block after block getting turned down my cafés, bars, and fruit stores alike. WHAT THE HECK! I was a little girl in need and almost in tears. I cannot even express the gravity of the situation. Okay, fine, it is that time of the month. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a “Dino Pan” came to my rescue (the Dunkin’ Donuts of Spain). There were other things that I just won’t go into, but fue muy, muy mal.

After that whole episode, I realized that I was MISERABLY lost. I got out my map and found that my excursion took me half an hour in the wrong direction. I began to weave my way in and out of streets and parks to get to school. I arrive late to my first class, which is a university class and I was nervous to meet all of the Spanish students. My commute took me 70 minutes instead of 30. It turned out to be fine, but still, not the picturesque morning I usually enjoy. I had three classes right in a row, the first two are university classes. Guerra civil was a nice break, but still class.

Also, I have a final tomorrow and I spent way too much time in the library. I was walking home and stressing about my test and not really paying attention when I notice that I had gone about eight blocks past my apartment building, which is absolutely absurd because I was ON MY STREET. Yo soy un tocho (I’m as dumb as a brick).

I finally got home and suddenly remembered my peanut butter. So I got out my ghetto little yellow baby spoon and got a spoonful of peanut butter. The sheer beauty of this moment is beyond words. I was taking it all in, and in my happy place, ah sweet euphoria, when all of a sudden…

… Fina opened my door and asked what is going on. And I told her I was having a little peanut butter, extremely embarrassed that she saw me during this intimate moment. She was curious and we headed into the kitchen with my prized possession. Keep in mind, this is the only peanut butter I have until February. We started to spread it on some bread, then apple slices. This was Spain’s first ever Fiesta de mantequilla de cacahuetes. Que fantástico! Fina was fully embracing peanut butter… but maybe too much. I mean I was really happy that she really liked it, but she went to town on that jar of peanut butter. I had only rationed a single spoon for today. It is a very bittersweet moment… mostly bitter… as in I am harboring bitter feelings over having to share my peanut butter. One-third of the jar gone in one day. Que triste. It just occurred to my now how lucky I am that I am not allergic to nuts.


P.S. If anyone wants to send me peanut butter…