Peanut Butter Patriots

We LOVE peanut butter, or more specifically I do. Have since I was little. It’s something I inherited from my Dad, as sure as my upturned nose. Well, it turns out in Morocco, as in other parts of the world, peanut butter hasn’t really caught on. It’s kinda the equivalent of British marmite, e.g., something only loved in its mother country.

In our local Marrakech supermarket, for example, where half an aisle is given to Nutella and P&G products like Pringles are ubiquitous, there’s not a single jar of peanut butter to be found. So, in celebration of July 4th, and with Martha Stewart-worthy flair, Samuel has devoted the morning to making homemade peanut butter.

First the selection of nuts (curiously, despite Moroccan’s disinterest in peanut butter, they’re big fans of peanuts and we have tubs to choose from). He selects some small, red-skinned peanuts and mixes them with kidney-bean shaped white peanuts. Next, he bakes the nuts, turning them carefully every few minutes, for about a half hour to loosen the nuts’ bitter skins. Once they’re cooled, we spend about an hour (yes, we’ve got some time on our hands these days!) removing the skins by rubbing each nut between our fingers and then sifting them through a sieve. Finally, to the blender go the nuts and within minutes the kitchen is filled with a warm fragrance – sweet and toasty. Some science class taught us that it takes a fair amount of heat to go from a solid to a liquid state, and the peanut butter pours in steaming folds from the blender to its jar.



Hamoud, Hint and the kids wander into the kitchen during the peanut butter making, quizzical looks on their faces. Whereas the boys are always anxious to try a new goodie, they keep their hands decidedly down turned and slink away to pick a few grapes from the refrigerator instead. It’s almost sacrilegious, a kid passing up peanut butter!

After two days in bed with what might be second-round chicken pox, or some nasty virus, our Independence Day peanut butter proves the perfect restorative. We’ll save the burgers and beer for another day.