Krispy Kreme Peanut Butter Dream Sandwich
This sandwich is nothing but giddy, gleeful, obscene decadence!
I created this seductive little tidbit for Project PB&J - a contest for food bloggers which is being hosted by my friend Cindy (a former Ann Arborite, I must point out) of Once Upon a Loaf and her friend Christina of She Runs, She Eats. The competition is in honor of National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day, as well as Cindy's birthday, on April 2. What great excuses for a party, celebrating with everybody's favorite flavor combination!
The rules required preparing a sandwich and/or a baked good with a nut butter and a jelly/jam or fruit ... the critical ingredients in a PB&J, but with some room for variations on the theme. I tried to think globally, since peanuts are an integral part of African cooking. I tried to think of ways to modify classic desserts, such as the Austrian Sachertorte made with dense chocolate cake and apricot jam.
And then I came back to the sandwich's inherent identity; it just made sense to not riff into territory that was too terribly unfamiliar. A PB&J is classic after all; at what point, I debated philosophically, does it cease being a PB&J if one tinkers too much ...?
And so, I kept to the basics. I used peanut butter. I used jelly. I tossed a bit of Nutella into the mix because, frankly, one can rarely go wrong with Nutella; its chocolate and hazelnut flavors are both nice complements to the other two ingredients.
And then, the hedonism really kicked in. What kind of bread to use? Well, why use bread at all? Jeremy loves Luther Burgers, named in honor of the late Luther Vandross, which use Krispy Kreme doughnuts as buns. So, why not use a doughnut as bread? And then - simply because it's been all the rage, and its saltiness and crispness would add flavor and texture to my concoction - I tossed in a little bit of bacon. I'm smirking as I contemplate this notion, even though I know I should hang my head in shame.
This sandwich is ridiculously easy to make, which only enhances its beauty. Cook up some bacon. Schmear doughnut halves with yummy things. Put it all together. Grab some napkins. Enjoy!
And enjoy this little ditty, too, whether you've seen it 149 times or have never been introduced to its odd charms:
Krispy Kreme Peanut Butter Dream Sandwich
4 Krispy Kreme doughnuts, halved
1/2 cup peanut butter, smooth or crunchy
1/4 cup Nutella
4 tablespoons apricot all-fruit spread
8 slices thick-cut bacon, cooked until crisp, halved
Place the tops and bottoms of the doughnuts onto a countertop. Schmear each top with some of the peanut butter, dividing it evenly among the doughnuts. Schmear the bottoms with Nutella, then schmear the apricot spread over the peanut butter. Place the bacon onto the Nutella-covered portions, dividing it evenly among the doughnuts. Put the tops and bottoms together to form 4 sandwiches.
Makes 4 sandwiches, serving 4-8 depending upon how much tolerance you have for such excess.
Alright, let's get the obvious statement out of the way right from the beginning: this sandwich has no - and I do mean NO - redeeming nutritional value. There's no arguing that peanut butter provides protein. There's no rationalizing that apricots provide vitamins A and C. There's fat, there's sugar, there's salt ... and lots of each. Oy!
This sandwich is nothing but giddy, gleeful, obscene decadence!
I created this seductive little tidbit for Project PB&J - a contest for food bloggers which is being hosted by my friend Cindy (a former Ann Arborite, I must point out) of Once Upon a Loaf and her friend Christina of She Runs, She Eats. The competition is in honor of National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day, as well as Cindy's birthday, on April 2. What great excuses for a party, celebrating with everybody's favorite flavor combination!
The rules required preparing a sandwich and/or a baked good with a nut butter and a jelly/jam or fruit ... the critical ingredients in a PB&J, but with some room for variations on the theme. I tried to think globally, since peanuts are an integral part of African cooking. I tried to think of ways to modify classic desserts, such as the Austrian Sachertorte made with dense chocolate cake and apricot jam.
And then I came back to the sandwich's inherent identity; it just made sense to not riff into territory that was too terribly unfamiliar. A PB&J is classic after all; at what point, I debated philosophically, does it cease being a PB&J if one tinkers too much ...?
And so, I kept to the basics. I used peanut butter. I used jelly. I tossed a bit of Nutella into the mix because, frankly, one can rarely go wrong with Nutella; its chocolate and hazelnut flavors are both nice complements to the other two ingredients.
And then, the hedonism really kicked in. What kind of bread to use? Well, why use bread at all? Jeremy loves Luther Burgers, named in honor of the late Luther Vandross, which use Krispy Kreme doughnuts as buns. So, why not use a doughnut as bread? And then - simply because it's been all the rage, and its saltiness and crispness would add flavor and texture to my concoction - I tossed in a little bit of bacon. I'm smirking as I contemplate this notion, even though I know I should hang my head in shame.
This sandwich is ridiculously easy to make, which only enhances its beauty. Cook up some bacon. Schmear doughnut halves with yummy things. Put it all together. Grab some napkins. Enjoy!
And enjoy this little ditty, too, whether you've seen it 149 times or have never been introduced to its odd charms:
Krispy Kreme Peanut Butter Dream Sandwich
4 Krispy Kreme doughnuts, halved
1/2 cup peanut butter, smooth or crunchy
1/4 cup Nutella
4 tablespoons apricot all-fruit spread
8 slices thick-cut bacon, cooked until crisp, halved
Place the tops and bottoms of the doughnuts onto a countertop. Schmear each top with some of the peanut butter, dividing it evenly among the doughnuts. Schmear the bottoms with Nutella, then schmear the apricot spread over the peanut butter. Place the bacon onto the Nutella-covered portions, dividing it evenly among the doughnuts. Put the tops and bottoms together to form 4 sandwiches.
Makes 4 sandwiches, serving 4-8 depending upon how much tolerance you have for such excess.
bee right back gotta pump bump an old paula deen thread
