...a bumper sticker that has the wording: "I brake for Boiled Peanuts". Daughter who loves them was laughing when she told me she would happily attach a sticker with those words on the back of her car. Accompanying the dozen or so others that express her philosophy/opinions as she travels. She reports often seeing perplexed expressions on faces of people behind her, when she looks in the rear view mirror as people ponder the hatchback of her car.
My dad taught my daughter to love boiled peanuts. He also took them out in the field, and showed them how the grow, pulled some up (with permission) that belonged to a friend and brought the plants home. Taught them how to sit on the tailgate of the pickup truck and pull the little goobers off the roots of the plant. When your bucket gets full, then you go in the house and wash them in the kitchen sink. Put them in a pot, with water and salt, and wait. When they are done, you drain the dirty, salty water off and sit in the back yard and eat, eat, eat. Where you can throw all the shells on the ground and no one cares.
I guess it is a 'southern thing?' My brother recently emailed to say he had been on a Saturday to a farmers market and bought a bag of goodness, enjoyed every one. I clearly remember one summer when I was in my early teens and ate so many my mom made me go on a diet. I believe the weight gain was due to consumption of the wonderfully fatty, high sodium peanuts, but it lazy could have been a contributing factor. I just recall my mom as the enforcer for some weeks applying discipline to my eating habits. And you know how whine-y a teen can be when pushed into doing some activity not of her choosing... I probably made everyone in the house miserable as I begrudged every ounce.
Yes, they are good. Especially when fresh, cooked in a big pot, under a little shelter on the edge of the road. Where the guy who runs the farm stand also has fresh local peaches, and maybe some home grown tomatoes to sell. But be prepared to pack on the pounds if you get addicted.
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