Brightest Young Things

A Review of Peanut Butter and Co. in NYC

The other weekend I was in New York, which meant I finally had the opportunity to visit Peanut Butter and Co. The Greenwich Village eatery makes its own peanut butters that you can (and I do) buy in Whole Foods and a few other DC-area food stores.  Thanks to VictoryRose for reminding me about this place in a comment a few weeks back. 

I'm generally a fan of Peanut Butter + Co's products, although they take some getting used to. I can understand the purist argument that spreads like White Chocolate Delight, Mighty Maple, Cinnamon Raisin Swirl, and other combinations depart from the basic PB formula to the extent that they become something fundamentally different - as distinct from real peanut butter as Nutella or almond butter.

However, I've been willing to grant PB + Co. a reprieve based on general deliciousness - which is why I was surprised and deeply troubled that VR found the fare at the Co's home base in the Village to be "not delicious." I had perused the menu on-line only briefly, and some of the descriptions I could only characterize as peanut-butter porn. 

But as we all know, the real thing often fails to meet our expectations. Would that be my fate at PB+Co?

Upon seeing the menu in person, my reaction was as follows: everything looks amazing. Paralyzingly so. I literally want to order everything, and the thought of choosing just one sandwich seems not only emotionally devastating, but also somewhat insulting given the creativity and variety on display here.

They do offer a Peanut Butter sampler - but that kinda seems like a cop-out. In situations like these, I take pride in absolutely nailing a tough menu decision. Given my special interest in peanut butter, I especially don't want to fuck this one up - or duck the challenge. Plus, the PB sampler comes with Melba toast, which is the only item on the entire menu that does not appeal and in fact sounds kinda gross.

I want to pick something unusual. As great as a Fluff n' Nutter or PB + Nutella would be right now, I've been there before and know I'll be back soon enough. The Cookie Dough surprise (PB, vanilla cream cheese, and chocolate chips), on the other hand, promises to be just that. I'm curious about the Vanilla cream cheese (I never imagined PB + cream cheese to be a viable combo, but if it's vanilla cream cheese...), about how closely the taste approximates actual cookie dough, and then of course, there's the chocolate factor. In a modest creative burst of my own, I ask for it with Cinnamon Raisin Swirl peanut butter, thinking that will make for some nice complimentary flavors (Chunky is the default option here). So, it's the Cookie Dough surprise with Cinnamon Raisin peanut butter on wheat. Plus a vanilla milkshake w/ peanut butter.  Done.

My sandwich arrives first, and it looks spectacular. It's big (probably twice the surface area of your standard Wonder bread-style slice), which is reassuring. It is cut diagonally. It also comes with a very small bag of potato chips and three carrot sticks, which I'm unsure what to make of (more on this later).

The first bite brings thorough and immediate satisfaction on at least two levels: 1) this is a really fucking good sandwich, delivering all the sensory pleasures one expects from a good PB sandwich; 2) on a more cerebral plane, I marvel at the ability of simple ingredients to produce a whole that is so much greater - and different - than the sum of its parts. This is obviously the fundamental principle behind good cooking, but it applies at the sandwich level as well. The combination of PB and Vanilla cream cheese really does approximate the taste of cookie dough, but with a lighter touch. There's none of that kinda sickening, over-doughy feeling of excess that you encounter in the middle of a particularly dense cookie dough cluster.

The chocolate chips are a great addition: they provide the familiar crunch that, as any chunky devotee knows, defines the topography of each bite. Throwing raisins into the mix (Cinnamon Raisin Swirl has a generous portion swimming around) offers the unique pleasure of encountering a spontaneous raisinet every two or three bites.

The bread is also spot-on. Bread choice is often over-looked in the PB calculus, but in my opinion it is absolutely crucial. This thin but grainy wheat is tasty but not overpowering; it's hearty enough to keep the house in order (no drippage or run-away raisins here) but yields readily to mandibular assault. With a PB sandwich, I want to taste the bread, but only for a second.

The milkshake is, regrettably, a little disappointing. True, my expectations were sky-high, but this shake is clearly over-blended. I like to see glacial chunks of ice cream floating around in there - which is a matter of personal taste rather than hard-and-fast culinary law I admit - but this guy is bubbly and borderline foamy, and a foamy milkshake is nobody's idea of a good time. Also, I suspect I've been skimped on vanilla ice cream.

Finally, I have to say I was a little perplexed and actually kinda pissed off by the aforementioned carrots and potato chips they insisted on serving with every sandwich. They seem totally out of place. As I scope out the other patrons, I notice a direct correlation between carrot/potato chip-consumption and lack of PB appreciation. A grungy couple of thirty-somethings, for example, have ordered The Heat Is On (a chicken sandwich with pineapple jam and a spicy variety of peanut butter) and some monstrosity involving pickles. This order seems to violate the spirit of the place. I can understand these menu items as a concession to the non-PB enthusiast dragged along with a group of true believers - but what is this couple's excuse?  Sure enough, they have greedily devoured the potato chips and carrot sticks as well.

Overall, however, I'm pleased with the level of peanut butter appreciation around me. My fellow dinners seem to be enjoying themselves. They are mostly drinking milk (or milk-based beverages). They are generally ignoring the carrots. Also, and this strikes me as important, they are a diverse group. There is a tourist family from the Midwest (sorry, but it's just obvious); a Sunday-morning NYU date; a swank couple that looks like they could be on the board at the Met.

There is also international representation. I hear a British accent in front of me order a cup of tea (questionable, but at least he used milk); two Germen men pour over a map of the city at a table next to me. This is especially encouraging. The non-American market has traditionally resisted peanut butter, but maybe putting it in the context of a trendy Greenwich Village café will finally help PB win acceptance abroad.

I'm of two minds on this point. On the one hand, I sort of like that PB is seen in other countries as a quirky American affliction. They just don't "get" peanut butter and can't imagine how we like it, much less consume it in massive quantities and virtually endless incarnations. On the other hand, I have to conclude that if the rest of the world comes to truly appreciate the joys of peanut butter, this can only be a good thing. The utilitarian factor ultimately trumps any concern over the loss of a distinctly American phenomenon.

Because the joys of peanut butter are, after all, immense. My experience at Peanut Butter and Co. is yet another reminder of this fact. "It's so gooey," a young woman exclaims, contemplating her Fluff n' Nutter on wheat as I head ever-so-reluctantly for the door. Gooey indeed, my friend, gooey indeed.

Previously in Tangents:

• 12/28: Terrible Boyfriend/ Girlfriend Generator.
• 11/2: PHOTOS: TAXLO Halloween (feat. Chain Gang of 1974)
• 10/10: #OccupyWallStreet
• 8/10: PHOTOS: Lawn Mover Racing, Eastern Seaboard Regionals @ Bowles Farm
• 7/26: Special List: Things the BYGays Want Now That We Can Marry In DC (and NY!)
• 7/20: PHOTOS: Artscape
• 7/19: Miho Hatori's Guide to New York City
• 4/11: Cirque Du Soleil: Totem (A Review)
• 12/29: War, Reenacted
• 12/29: What in Hell is Slaughterama?!?