Here's how the process went. We started by going to the market, which in the capital city Tananarive where we lived, was at the bottom of a very long flight of stairs. Walking through the open air market, with all the sights and sounds and smells was an adventure in itself. We'd buy a couple kilos of peanuts, still in the shell and still quite raw.
Once back home, we had to shell the peanuts. This meant sitting and pressing on those shells with your hands or a hammer until you were tired. But of course, Dad has stories to tell and it was family time in the kitchen with Mom. I loved these times. After all the shelling was done, then came the roasting. Dad watched this part like a hawk. Much later in my life, I have realized how important this part is. If you don't roast them enough, they aren't as good but you have to get them out of the oven before they burn too. Tricky business! To this day I choose my peanut butter by the quality of the roast color I see through the jar.
Then, we had to rub off the skins! That part is pretty easy. And then comes the grinding. We used to use an old fashioned meat/food grinder with hand crank. It had different inserts with three different sized holes so we could get it finer. It was my job to hold down the stool that the grinder was attached to and spoon the peanuts into the grinder while Dad cranked away. We put it through the grinder three times. It was Mom's job to have fresh bread ready by the time the peanut butter was ready!
I've been in love with peanut butter ever since! If you have ever lived with me or near me, you know that I still eat more peanut butter than the average bear! It's a love affair that will never end. And it goes with everything...well almost everything. I eat it with fruit, rice, oatmeal, veggies and of course bread & jelly.
So grateful for peanuts and peanut butter!
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