Australia vs The Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

Every pure blooded American knows that the Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich is the greatest sandwich ever created and was in all likelihood the manna from heaven that the Israelites ate off the ground whilst wandering around in the wilderness for 40 years.

Imagine my surprise when I first got off the boat here and looked around for a peanut butter and jelly shop only to discover that this nutritious holy sacrament turns out to be a crucifix dipped in holy garlic water to the hedonistic Australians who offer Vegemite to their false gods of sandwich spreads.

Australians cannot wrap their heads around this most holy of sandwiches and when you talk to them about it their eyes will squint into a watery frown and they tell you, “You mean Peanut Butter and JAM! right?”

Answer: NO! Peanut Butter and JELLY Damnit!

So to any Australians that stumble upon this lexicon of cultural AsiaPac truth, let me explain it to you once and for all right here.

Jelly, when used in the title “Peanut Butter and Jelly”,  is in fact the universal generic term in describing these delicious sandwiches regardless what the technical name of the spread they consist of. You can make Peanut Butter JELLY sandwiches out of Jelly, Jam, or Preserves and we still call it, a “Peanut Butter and JELLY” sandwich.

Get ready Australia, because the images below are about to BLOW. YOUR. MIND!

Jelly – Jelly is a lightly coloured gelatinous type of Jam that you could almost call ‘Jam-Lite’ which I have not seen in Australia. There are no seeds or pieces of fruit in this form.

Jam – This is what you are more used to and is a clearish fruit preserve that you normally put on your toast. It contains both fruit juice and pieces of fruit finely chopped up.

Preserves – This is more of a fruit puréed and contains large chunks of the fruit and full seeds within it.

This can be made out of any flavour of jam as well. My favourite is Strawberry, but a few flavours Australia might not be very familiar with are Grape, Black Berry, Blueberry, Apricot, Orange Marmalade, Plum, Red Raspberry and Boysenberry.

Two of the most popular American Jams are Smuckers and the more gourmet Knotts Berry Farm.

**WARNING**

Stay away from the mixed PB & J jars such as Goobers. (Image below) This is a cardinal sin of PB & J making!

You can make a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich with any type of loafed bread or peanut butter whether it is crunchy or smooth. The variety of combinations of Jams, breads, and peanut butters can be overwhelming to the novice sandwich maker so please start simple. Do not fear them!

My personal prefered Peanut Butter to use is Jif however Skippy is an acceptable substitute in the US. Growing up we also had novelty brands such as Peter Pan (when not recalled for salmonella)  and Superman peanut butter.

Everyone makes their PB & J’s differently. Some like a heavy spread of peanut butter with a light spread of Jam to prevent seepage out the sides, but I prefer a heavy side of both with an extra side of seepage.

Tip: Put the peanut butter on one of the slices of bread first. If you put the jelly on first, then dip your jelly covered knife into the peanut butter, you may have jelly residue festering in the non refrigerated peanut butter jar in your cupboard.

After both sides are spread to your liking, attach the two slices together so that the shape of the cut matches identically. Wrap the sandwich in a paper towel as there will no doubt be messy elements seeping out the sides no matter how careful you try to be.

If you decide not to eat the sandwich whole and want to add fancy cuts to it (normally more popular with children) you can slice the sandwich in half or diagonally so as to create two matching triangles.

Eat and Enjoy

But not you Australia! Oooooh no, not you. In time maybe you will develop your palette to the high sophistication of the PB & J, but until then, enjoy your Vegemite, Butter and toast.

For more information on Jam go here

Smaller Worlds

Coincidences and small worlds probably live on the same border of each other; sister cities if you will, similar to St Paul and Minneapolis to tie in a reference of the previous blog entry. I’m not sure what the difference is but on the plane ride back to Melbourne I figured it’s something I ought to investigate.

Upon boarding the plane I saw a kid with a dodger hat; small gauge stretched ears, and finely trimmed facial hair, who looked like he was a member of Linkin Park.  I had shaken my head at him as I tend to do with such youths and moved on to my usual seating area of 29C.

I played the usual game of “please don’t sit next to me, please don’t sit next to me, oh PLEASE sit next to me” that some of us like to play when people are walking down the isle next to you and the roulette table eventually stopped on Mr. Linkin Park who very apologetically asked if he could get past me to the seat to my left.

The plane took off and he was very quiet holding his pillow he brought with him close to him the whole time. I ordered two of the travel bottles of wine from the very attractive stewardess and came up with the scientific theory that the wine would both thin my blood and dehydrate the congestion in my head causing it to….do…something. Bad idea.

Well the kid with the Dodger hat sat quietly holding his pillow close to him watching video after video of fish swimming around on his laptop with intensity. Maybe I had him pegged wrong I felt. He coyly asked the stewardess for some water and that’s when I noticed his harsh American accent. “watERR” always gives that one away. “He could have just been playing his quiet card being away from his pack. A wolf or coyote can be skittish until they come at you in numbers.” was the inner monologue that was going on in my head.

Anyways; towards the end of the flight when we were getting ready for landing I decided to talk to him and see where he was from. I had put a flew clues together already so I asked him if he was studying marine biology at the University of Queensland in Brisbane. He started beaming, “YES”. I asked if he was American and he said he was from the Fernando Valley. “I’m from Thousand Oaks in Ventura County” I told him which he  knew of.

So I asked him, “Have you met Davey Kline at the University?” He beamed again, “YES! I saw one of his lectures just yesterday. (Apparently its Dr. David Kline now) He’s a really cool, nice guy. He was going away for the weekend with his girlfriend.” Me nodding, “The German girl?” with a “YEEES!” that followed.

At this point my head was starting to do some strange things as the plane prepared for its decent and I could barely hear him next to me.

He asked me if I had attended the course which I didn’t. I explained to him that my sister graduated High School with him and that I knew his brother through some mutual friends and that’s how I knew he was teaching Marine Biology at the University of Queensland. This is a very popular course being that Queensland has a vast variety of easily accessible and easy to see sea life.

Backstory: My sister graduated High School with Davey who has always been known for being one of those truly genuinely nice guys. They were both going to move from California to attend the University of Minnesota so they thought, hey, lets do a road trip and go there. They both agreed.

My sister had in the past few years become a born again Christian and decided she didn’t feel comfortable travelling alone with him (fair enough) and so invited along our homosexual cousin to chaperone. Davey didn’t mind any of it until all of a sudden, they were on their way, and when night time came and our hero of the story was ready to curl up in his sleeping bag in the back of her Toyota 4 Runner and go to sleep he was told he had to sleep outside.

From what he told me a few years later over a beer at a friend’s house he was dumb founded when he was told. It was cold outside and he had not packed for such camping. She gave him no notice in advance of such an arrangement. From California to Minnesota, a trip that likely took 4 to 5 nights; he had to sleep on the side of the road. When they got to Minnesota they went their bitter ways and never spoke again.

My sister later repented of her sins in the mistreatment of this poor and helpless son of Abraham in the above story and said she was sorry about what she put him through. Davey laughs about it now, but he was definitely not happy at the time. And rightfully so.

Back to the present: Anyway, so that was the extent of our conversation because at this time the plane started to descend and my congested and now dehydrated ear drums were unable to adjust with the change of altitude and air pressure and as a result my ears would not pop.

It was uncomfortable at first and after 10 minutes became excruciating. I couldn’t hear anything and I felt like my ears were going to explode. I thought I would never hear again. I was writhing around trying all the ear pulling, nose plug blowing techniques with zero results.

I have no doubt to other passengers around me I looked like John Lithgow from the airplane scene in the Twilight Zone Movie.

I didn’t know what to do but as luck would have it, I remembered the urban legend about the man who urinated his way out of an avalanche and thought I’d apply the same principle to get my ears unplugged.

Using my “mental urine” have you, I concentrated on creating saliva and swallowed it hard focusing on my ears. At first there was no result but after a few times I heard a very small click in my right ear. Progress! A few more times and there were two clicks. This went on and on until I finally felt I made a good size hole to ease the pressure.

After a few minutes, more saliva and held nose blowing (not too hard have you), the pressure subsided some. I couldn’t hear much of anything other than some distant voices,  but at least it wasn’t making me look like a crazy person.

I said goodbye to the now scared kid in the Dodger hat and made my way home. He was actually a really nice young man. Good luck to him in his studies and to the Dodgers who will hopefully get to the World Series. Go Dodgers!

I never knew until looking at this drawing above, but apparently there are two snails that live inside our head that lay down some beats with drumsticks on our eardrums that enable us to hear. I guess this blog is becoming less and less about Australia and more and more about science.

Goodbye Brisbane

With a dirty glass of Virgins house red I say goodbye to a week in Brisbane where I take away with me a cold and fever.

The weather was in stark contrast from that of cold Melbourne and I can’t say I’m not going to miss it. It’s no wonder everyone is so attractive there. They’re always ready for the beach.

I ate Tapas one night next to the Brunswick Hotel where I stay and I noticed my waitress was very friendly, smiled, and offered great customer service. “Are you American?” I asked. “Yes” she said, “I’m from Minnesota.”

“I used to live in Edina, Minnesota.” I said as her mouth fell open. “That’s where I’M from!” We them spoke of Eden Prairie, St. Paul, and Mankato State. It is a small world at times.

At two other occasions this trip I ate at Montezuma’s Mexican restaurant in stubborn determination to find something on the menu that is half way decent. The hot salsa there is actually pretty good and the chips they used were likely just oven baked Doritos but was the best chips and salsa I’ve had in Australia hands down. I had two different burritos which were very average but edible.

A lot of random free hotel movies and an increasingly sore throat later I woke up last night and gargled with a little bit of German absinth I had in order to kill whatever devil was causing so much discomfort in my throat. I thought it was possible I could have figured out the new miracle cure for sore throats but alas, the effects were only temporary. The drastic climate change, recycled airplane oxygen, stuffy hotel rooms, and taxi cabs lead to me getting sick at least every other time I come up here.

So now I fly back for what is likely the 40^th time to Melbourne to spend a weekend in bed with tissues jammed up my nose.

Have a good weekend.

Melbourne Airport Once Again

Virgin Blue Lounge

There are people dying in floods and earthquakes in the world and I’m complaining about my dirty wine glass right now at the Virgin Blue Lounge in Melbourne.

I missed my flight this morning because my blackberry died on me and didn’t wake me up. I’ve had to purchase a new ticket to Brisbane, where I will spend the next 5 days in for work. It’s been a while since I’ve been there and the warm weather and change of scenery may just do me some good.

My flight has been delayed so I guess its time for another glass of cheep red and a nap. The Virgin Lounge in Melbourne is the largest the company has and is the third and best one I’ve been to; Sydney coming in second and Brisbane a dismal third. The glasses in all three are always dirty but at least they have a pool table.

Loss, Stupidity, and Scorpions

I’m a little late in my follow up entry due to the drinking challenge getting canceled due to me using too many wildcards. It’s a bad time in Australia to not drink. So my liver will continue to look like this:

My Liver

Saints vs Geelong

The Saints lost the grand final by one goal. It was a good game but they blew it. They had so many opportunities to score in the first half and choked. They SHOULD have won. So that was me on that Saturday sitting on the couch thinking… “Is this what its like to be a sports fan and have your heart pulled out of its scrawny chest?”

My friends and future flatmates Jude and Joel (we got a great 3 bedder on Barkley Street in St Kilda and move in on the 20^th) were there and we for some reason fused Mexican into the day.

Jude enjoys cooking and claims he makes the best salsa, guacamole, and nachos in the world. He’s very far off but it was a good effort. The nachos were made with Doritos, which again, from my previous post, is just lame.

I made more tacos that day then you can shake a stick at and they were GOOD. Tequila and Coronas’ were in high abundance. Joel purchased a bottle of Scorpion tequila which had a whole scorpion at the bottom. When the tequila was gone… he ate it.

Scorpion Teqillyou

With full bellies of excess we took it to the park and kicked the footy around in the dark with me flailing about sliding and getting muddy. An official AFL football is a Sherrin and has a completely different feel and technique in kicking and pass than an American “pigskin”.

For reasons too stupid to go into we almost had to fight two large blokes but in the end a simple apology from a certain foolish friend of mine sufficed. We wrapped the night up with some Guitar Hero and more tacos.

So in synopsis, sports are fun and those guys area gladiators out there, BUT its just a game and I found it a good excuse to drink, eat, and flail with some very good mates.

Jude, who is from Perth, is a Western Eagles supporter and was supporting Geelong in this match. We made nice in the end with a friendly cheers.

Jude and Nick make peace

Saints… we’ll get them next year.

The Grand Final Parade

Pint Parade

About 4 hours ago I had an epic entry in my head full of wisdom and gallantry. Unfortunately I used one of my two drinking wild cards this month early and after my 4th pint of Stella during the Grand Finals Parade in the CBD I quickly went from prophet to protestant.

Every year the Friday before the Grand Final all the players, coaching staff, and referees (along with their families) participate in a parade around the CBD and fans line up early and in large numbers to cheer them on.

Today was pouring down rain and so we stood along a barricade tromping on plants and watching the team’s wave outside the windows of SUV’s in a very anti-climactic event.

The St Kilda marching band was not very good other then the very attractive girl who played cymbals. I know she probably reads this blog so…cymbal girl…a big wink to you.

So there I was in my St Kilda jersey and my co-worker in his Geelong scarf drinking pint after pint in a mini pub crawl in “support of the teams”.

Raining

Cats

Coach

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The best part of today I think was when the parade went by, the police opened up the barricades, and the hundreds of St Kilda fans flooded in the streets singing in a united chant the St Kilda theme song.

Dust Storms in Australia

Today Sydneysiders woke up to what they may have thought was hell on earth. A dust storm hit the state making everything appear red and photos have swept across Australia much like the dust itself. More photos to be found here.

 

The dust storm made its way up to Brisbane as well making everything appear brown. Melbourne….clear skies.

                                       AAAAGGHHRRRRRR!!!!!!!!

AFL Grand Final

 
I’m not a sports writer and it’s a subject that used to bore me to tears, but you cannot live in Melbourne for any extended period of time and NOT write about AFL and the Grand Final. This week I will bore you with a few sport entries as a result.

I’ve written about it before so I won’t go into extreme detail on the sport, but for the American readers, the Grand Final is the Superbowl of Australian Rules Football minus all adverts, fireworks, and Janet Jackson.

This Saturday will be my third Grand Final since I’ve been living in Australia and it will no doubt be my favourite as my team, St Kilda Saints, will be playing against the Geelong Cats.

  

Saints vs Cats

Saturday 26th September 2009

 

The first year I was here (2007) Geelong won against Port Adelaide in a game I missed because I was in Hobart Tasmania walking around like an idiot. Last year Geelong lost against the Hawthorn Hawks in a very disappointing game that I missed because I decided to lock myself in my room with the lights off for a day.

Well this Saturday you better believe I will be in true form in support of my team that I have been picked on over the past couple years for supporting. I actually don’t think they will win, but they made it to the Grand Final and have received a lot of respect for their efforts this season.

Liver Liberation 2009

I’ve been in a blog off before, but today is the first day of the first annual drink off between me and an old (emphasis on old) friend Carlos in Los Angeles. Maybe drink off isn’t the right term. Basically we are going to see who can go the longest without consuming alcohol, which is a little game men like to play when they get a little older.

Carlos has two weddings comming up where he will be allowed consumption and I have the AFL Grand Final (Go Saints!) this coming Saturday and an Oktoberfest celebration on the 3rd of next month, which will call for a drink or two. Apart from these two days each, we are not allowed to consume anything with alcohol for at least one month. I imagine that’s when the contest will really kick in.

I’m getting some medical tests later this week for my permanent residency which I am hoping to have by December. It’s very exciting for me as it will mean I will never have to return to the US if I don’t want to. I will be writing about the process of getting ones residency later on.

So today begins Liver Liberation 2009 and whoever loses, our livers win. To your health!

[Liver Disease Info]

 

Nobody Likes an American? Really?

Why do people make fun of Americans so much? Is there validity to their arguments or is it that they just don’t understand the American way of life and thinking due to their own oppressive governments and educational systems which shield them from democracy and all the great and wonderful things that make up America?

 As an inside reporter in Australia I would like to show you some clips from a television series here in Australia called “Chasers War on Everything”. In this episode they go around the US asking your average everyday hardworking Americans absolutely ridiculous questions that really have nothing to do with America and that the average person wouldn’t know the answers to anyway. Freedom, truth, liberty. These are things they are just jealous of and I think they may be laughing at Americans here as a result. I’m not sure.