Peanut brittle is brain food, if you can remember where you put it

March 12, 2011 in: Reflections on the River

There’s a good reason why I’m eating three-month old peanut brittle. Okay, not a good reason, but at least I can explain.

It all started in December. I was at the store getting a few purchases and sitting there on the counter was a display of peanut brittle. I love peanut brittle. Especially at Christmas time. It was on sale for 99 cents, so I added a box to my pile of purchases.

After I got home, though, I rethought the wisdom of a snack with 12 grams of fat per serving. In order to protect myself from temptation, I put the box away. Out of sight, out of mind.

About a week later, the craving resurfaced. Turns out the peanut brittle wasn’t so much out of mind. I went to the cabinet to retrieve it from its hiding place. It wasn’t there. Since I live alone, this was rather disturbing. I searched through the cabinet again. Still no loot. I checked more obscure places – above the refrigerator, under the sink, behind the dishes, beside the cookbooks.

Apparently, I had done such a good job of protecting myself that I couldn’t even find it when I wanted it.

The mystery of the disappearing candy flitted in and out of my mind a few times, but was mostly forgotten. That is something I seem to be getting good at. Last week in a fit of spring cleaning I scrubbed the cabinets. As everything was emptied out, I wondered if the peanut brittle would resurface. I had discovered a very effective motivator for cleaning.

But still, the peanut brittle proved elusive.

A few days later, I was working on a sewing project that was started in the midst of winter. With spring rapidly approaching, I’m alarmed at the number of things I still have left to do that I promised to accomplish while cooped up inside. To be honest, I could really use one more snow storm, but I’ll try to finish these projects without one.

Except I couldn’t find the Velcro I needed for this project. Seriously, am I losing my mind? According to the book “Secret Life of the Grown Up Brain” by Barbara Strouch, which I read a few months, ago, not really. As your brain gets … let’s say more mature… it filters information differently. Smaller details are more likely to slip your attention, such as the name of that person you’ve known since third grade, where you put the car keys or where the heck that stupid peanut brittle is hiding. On the other hand, you’re much better at taking in the whole picture and making good decisions. This is why a college student will outscore a 60-year-old on a video game. But when diagnosing an illness, you’d much rather be seen by the older doctor than someone right out of medical school.

It would also explain why I had a vague sense the Velcro was in the sewing room/office/guest bedroom, but couldn’t lay my hands on. As my mom would say, since I didn’t know where it was, I couldn’t say where it wasn’t, so I started looking elsewhere. The laundry room, the junk drawer, the desk. I rifled through the shelves where I store things like canning jars, nails and tools.

Then a package on a lower shelf caught my eye. It looked like a box, all wrapped up in a white sack. I had a sneaking suspicion what it was. I unwrapped the sack and sure enough, it was a box of peanut brittle.

I was like the father welcoming the prodigal son. The lost has been found, let’s have a party. I cracked open the package and bit into it. A little chewy, but not too bad three months on. As I crunched, then scraped a bit off my teeth, I suddenly remembered where the Velcro was. I hurried in and grabbed a box off the closet shelf and opened it up to see the object of my search.

Which has led me to conclude that peanut brittle is brain food. I’m going to start eating more of it to improve my memory. As soon as I can remember where I put it.