Thanks to Alex Newport-Berra for his second contribution to DolomiteSport. Alex is a great friend and remains the fastest man I have seen on a bike. He has his own blog which I find to be one of the most creative and fun sites in my list of bookmarks.
At the end, we’re throwing out a challenge to all those getting through Alex’s post, read on and enjoy. And for our European friends, it is truly time to learn something from these wise words. Remember who was fastest on the passes in 2009 – I hear Lance even lives on these – and the fuel of choice was…..
The PB & J (for Europeans: Peanut Butter & Jelly – yes, the horror, but read on)
by Alex Newport-Berra
First, an antipasta…
Whether it’s a pre-rando race plate of Mama’s pasta and Tiramisu at Ustaria Posta, a post ride Italian pizza the size of a bicycle wheel, or a simple, yet elegant stop at the top of Passo Staulanza for a mid-ride ginseng espresso and pastry energizer for the next pass, it is clear the Patitucci’s grand adventure lifestyle requires substantial fuel. And with Dan’s stamina and power some might confuse him for a horse, except that his palette is a bit more refined. A man, especially one with Italian blood and a Swiss wife, can’t live on oats alone. Among all the amazing photos of far-off mountains in all seasons, interviews and insight from inspirational athletes, stories, and each new post to their site, I find the Patitucci’s talents whetting both my appetite for adventure and the unique cuisine they encounter as a result.
However, there seems to be a bit of a hole as the main caloric ambassador for the Patitucci’s U.S. adventures is, beer. The recipe I share with you here is the foundation, the traditional mountain adventure food of Americans everywhere. From the dirt-bag climbers living out of vans to the lift-junkies in Aspen to the diligent cyclist putting in long base miles for the season.
For all the European readers, with limited access and esteem for peanut butter, feel free to use Nutella and that fresh loaf of bread you picked up this morning at the local bakerei.
The recipe itself is quite detailed, explicit, and a touch obsessive, but it comes down to one thing Italians and many Europeans know well, a passion for food that fuels a passion for life in the mountains! And, when cooking, or in any technical mountain pursuit for that matter, it is not so much the ingredients you use, rather it is the process, your intention, and precision of execution that dictate success.
When I was young this sandwich was my weekend fuel of choice for mountain bike rides in the woods. In high school this PB&J fueled my good friend Matt and I on many climbing and hiking adventures that I’m sure put both our Moms on edge. When I was in college it was with this sandwich I courted the most beautiful woman on campus. In my early twenties, sick, weak, and chock-full of pain killers after an ACL surgery gone wrong, this sandwich was the only food that aroused my palette, and so it was this sandwich that nursed me back to health, strength, and bike riding vitality.
And now, the main course, the true hard-man/woman’s PB&J
Ingredients:
2 slices of your favorite sandwich bread (take the slices from the middle of the loaf, this will ensure you have the moistest, biggest, pieces of bread.)
Pure, natural fruit Jam
Natural, 100%, crunchy peanut-butter (Jiffy, Skippy, or any other brand with anything other than peanuts and salt is NOT ACCEPTABLE, you might as well use drywall spackle if you’re planning to make it with a brand that ends in “y”.)
Tools:
Butter knife.
The biggest, sharpest, knife in your house.
Plate.
Hands.
Mouth.
Make it:
It is crucial you follow these instructions exactly. It makes a difference. This recipe is one part tea ceremony ritual, one part artistry, and one part highly calculated PB&J foreplay. And with the PB&J foreplay in mind, it’s worth informing, “do not eat, taste, etc. any of the ingredients during the construction process, your “first bite”, should really be, your first bite.”
Have at the ready your PB and jam because once you pull the slices of bread from the middle of the loaf they immediately start losing their fluff, moisture, and goodness, and you want those babies fresh for your first bite.
Place both slices of bread on the cutting board, one above the other, not side by side. Seriously, this is not some sort of abstract impressionism; you just can’t be putting your bread all willy-nilly wherever you want.
Cradle the lower slice in your hand, spread a thick, 3/8 inch layer* of jam on its surface. The spread here is finesse and it’s all in the wrist, this is where my childhood tennis and golf lessons came in handy. Make sure the middle area is just a little thicker.
*a rather long, though necessary note about spreading thickness: unless you are an engineer or of another profession that works with a ruler on a daily basis, it is imperative you educate yourself on what 3/8 of an inch honestly looks like. If you know your fractions you’ll realize I’m talking almost 1/2 inch here. Go, now, and find a ruler, familiarize yourself with just how thick 3/8 inch actually is. Yes, that IS a lot of PB and J. And that IS the whole point. The PB&J was not intended for the modern wave of caloric fear and scrutiny. This is the kind of sandwich Sir Ernest Shackleton, Eddy Merckx, Reinhold Messner, or The Statue of Liberty would be proud of. It is a blissful, positive, life-affirming sandwich that Oprah, Weight Watchers, Subway, or the muddled “Vogue” magazine calorie-free chocolate sauce psyche would not approve of, and is simply not prepared for. So do you get it now? Don’t skimp it. Let the 3/8 inch beauty and size be fuel for a grand adventure, a long day in nature, a chance to trust that what’s in your stomach will serve as a foundation for an amazing experience to come, one without fear or worry of growing hungry, tired, or weak, mid-way through your efforts. Or split it with a friend.
Place the lower slice, now covered with the prescribed layer of jam, on the plate. Now, there will be some residual jam on the butter knife. This is good. Wipe the knife clean on the upper slice in two diagonal swipes, creating a faint “X” on the slice.
Cradling this slice in your hand spread a thick 3/8 inch layer of PB, again, a little thicker in the middle. I’m not going into the crunchy vs. creamy debate. Honestly, creamy PB is like buying a white Porsche, or Fabio and Heidi Klum wearing board-shorts and a muumuu to the photo-shoot.
Carefully position the PB slice on top of the jam slice on the plate, ensuring the edges line up with the precision of an elevator door closing. Flip the sandwich over so the PB layer is now on the bottom.
Things are getting steamy now, dark hued jam oozing, rich peanut butter smells wafting in the air, the soft texture of moist bread grazing your open palm. And this is good, remember, “do not eat, taste, etc. any of the ingredients during the construction process”. Food foreplay heightens the senses, appetite arousal, so the first bite is sweet, salty, crunchy, moist, orgasmic bliss.
The final cutting of the sandwich is where I got to secretly live out my desire to be a sushi chef. I always admired the intention and focus they put into each cut, and their gleaming, larger than life knives. This cutting process is where I used the biggest, heaviest, sharpest knife in the house. Pick the sandwich up from the plate. You will notice the wonderful heft of the sandwich, the glory of your true 3/8 inch* layers of love.
Place the sandwich back on the cutting board, jam side up. Lightly tamp down the top side of the sandwich by moving the knife in a diagonal position and direction from the lower left corner to the upper right corner of the sandwich. You are tamping, not smashing. Some jam and PB will ooze out the side, this is ok, and where the one contradiction to the rules comes in. Pick up the sandwich and lick clean the edges.
You will either be highly attracted to, or highly suspicious of, the tamping process. Though, as a wizened Italian grandmother said to her quivering grandson before his first confessional, “I don’t care what you believe, just do it!” The tamping process firms the moist mid-loaf slices of bread and creates uniform layers of bread PB and jam. It also allows the bread to hold up to the mastication process a few seconds longer so each bite is a true amalgamation of bread, PB and jam, resulting in a heavenly, sin-free, experience.
At last, you are ready to “plate” your creation. Make sure the cut line is going from the upper left hand corner to the lower right. No garnish, no accessories, this one stands alone.
As you look with awe, wonder, and lust, you will be amazed at your feelings of affection for what many deem a simple stand-by. Sweet chanting in your mind has become louder, perhaps vocal, as you find yourself muttering between swallows of mouth-watering pre-bite saliva, “It’s time baby, it’s time. Let’s eat!”
If you’re intending to transport this beauty I have found that a good wrap in foil is really the only way to contain it properly as most “sandwich” baggies won’t come close. Where, how, when, you enjoy this sandwich is entirely up to you, and the adventure it fuels.
___________________________________
>> DolomiteSport Photo Contest <<
We’re looking for the perfect PB&J photo in one of two forms. There are two categories in which to play.
1. Design : We’ll consider Alex’s principles of construction and rate according to design and presentation – this will be the overall prize and the winner will receive a Smartwool NTS Baselayer system courtesy of our fun loving friends at the wool clothing master.
2. Consumption : For those not so talented in food photography, this is the category for you. The winning photo will be chosen based on the effects/aftermath/mess of eating a finely crafted PB&J sandwich. The winner will receive a stack of DolomiteSport stickers along with a napkin.
Please post photos by April 1 to our DolomiteSport Facebook Fanpage
Dolomites Tour Operator
