on the hunt for peanut soup

Cornelius found Rosalyn Carter’s recipe for peanut soup in this book.

I would be terribly remiss if I didn’t serve up an extra special peanut butter recipe this month. With winter nipping at our heels and holiday stress rearing its ugly head, only one thing will do: SOUP! Hearty, comforting peanut soup!

photo of King’s Arms Tavern via history.org
King’s Arms Tavern Cream of Peanut Soup

I had my first bowl of peanut soup at King’s Arms Tavern in Colonial Williamsburg back in the early 80’s. For our first Christmas in Virginia, it was positively magical savoring spoonfuls of rich creamy broth in a firelit 18th century dining room. I remember thinking it was odd to have soup made from peanuts, then being pleasantly surprised at the marvelous flavor.

I just learned this Southern favorite probably wouldn’t have been on the menu back in the 18th century. Peanut soups, mushes and stews were likely part of the slave diet, but peanuts would not gain national acceptance as something more than animal feed or simple fare until after the Civil War. Still, Jefferson did raise peanuts at Monticello, and Washington liked peanut soup enough to eat it daily as a first course.

Cornelius found the King’s Arms Tavern recipe for Cream of Peanut Soup in this book.

The earliest peanut soups prepared in this country were probably more stew-like; slave recipes may have been styled after tomato-based soups popular in central Africa or a Sudanese soup made with lamb bones, garlic and rice. Sarah Rutledge’s version (Carolina Housewife, 1847) included oysters.

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friday feast: two smooth talkers, a chunky hunk, and a hot salsa mama

Welcome to our Peanut Butter Poets Party!

Every Poetry Friday in November, we’re serving up creamy crunchy chewy peanut butter poems written by some of our favorite nut cases children’s poets and friends.

Today’s menu features four good-looking but sticky poets: Charles Ghigna, Matt Forrest Esenwine, David L. Harrison and Marilyn Singer.

The guys all love peanut butter but Marilyn doesn’t (gasp!). Don’t worry — what she doesn’t eat, she makes up for with fancy footwork and sassy swaying to that crazy Latin beat.

I call Charles and Matt the Peter Pan twins; they’re both into creamy and are oh-so-smooth with their rhythm and rhyme (get a grip; they may slide off your screen). David calls himself a “Jiffy chunky man.” See what happens when you have a choosy mom? You grow up to be a chunky hunk who knows how to cowboy up. I wonder if he’s found his elusive jelly yet?

Enjoy Our Daily Spread. Okay to read aloud with your mouth full.

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