PB on Wheat...hold the lettuce.

In my extensive world travels, I have astutely noted that only in America do we appreciate the sanctity of crushed nuts in a jar. Yes, I am referring to the wondrous substance that is peanut butter. I brought a jar with me because the thought of going 138 days (not that I was counting) without that spreadable goodness was just unfathomable. This past weekend in the city, we stopped at the Chilean equivalent of Walmart (called Lider). In the food aisle, I casually picked up a jar of "mantequilla de mani," knowing full well that if I mentioned that I eat it a lot in the States that they would insist on buying some. Sure enough, against all odds, there are now two (only one to their knowledge) jars of peanut butter in my Chilean homestay. 

That night, for "once," my madre and Ivanna did their best to prepare food with the alien condiment. So for dinner, I was served about a half a cup of chunky peanut butter on a bed of lettuce with some diced tomatoes and avocado. Although I later explained to them the concept of a peanut butter sandwich, I must admit that this experience has only affirmed my previous notion that peanut butter is THE ultimate condiment and is supremely versatility. I've found my new favorite salad dressing. Despite the somewhat less-than-traditional preparation, there was minimal conversation at dinner due to enthusiastic consumption (and partly due to the fact that their jaws were cemented shut). They loved it. I knew I liked these people.

Today at school, I unwrapped the lunch that my madre had packed me. Behold, a peanut butter sandwich!! With....LETTUCE. At least we're making progress. And I have a feeling that the peanut butter has earned a permanent spot on the table. Consider me a happy Chilena.