make a fluffernutter.

delicious, drippy, and sweet.

In case you need encouragement to reignite an old childhood flame, or fan a new one, here's my plea to make yourself a fluffernutter sandwich before summer ends.

There's little better and close to nothing simpler than a peanut butter sandwich for taking to the beach or park or trail. Jelly is the classic, of course, and blueberry is my preferred, but over the weekend I had a sudden urge for an old fashioned fluffernutter, which is to say, a peanut butter and Fluff sandwich. For the uninitiated, Fluff is the brand name for the delightful, somewhat inscrutable, cafeteria classic: shelf-stable marshmallow creme.

A peanut butter and Fluff sandwich is delicious, drippy, and sweet. The sweet, sticky marshmallow is the perfect foil to the salty, nutty butter. A sprinkle of sea salt is not wrong and while at the beach, a sprinkle of sand is practically guaranteed. Like your sunscreen, your cellphone, and your lip balm, the sandwiches will act like a magnet for foreign objects, so proceed with caution or abandon depending on your taste for crunch. Best of all for beach days: the delicacy only gets more delicious the longer they sit, wrapped in waxed paper and warmed by the sun.

Experts will disagree, but in my opinion, a perfect flutternutter has a generous spread of peanut butter on one side of the bread and an only moderately smaller spread of Fluff on the other. A bit of ooze when the two pieces are brought together is to be expected and celebrated. Though the sandwiches of childhood memory were nearly always served on white Wonder bread, I love a fluffernutter on a soft loaf of slightly heartier, wheatier bread, which I find lends a nice flavor and comes with less likelihood of turning into actual cement on the roof of your mouth. Matters of personal preference aside, the only way to mess up a fluffernutter is not to make one. Fluffernutters are truly excellent when paired with kettle cooked potato chips and a Foxon Park Root Beer. You can take the girl out of New England, et cetera.

You absolutely do not need a recipe, but here's one anyway:

Ingredients:

Two slices of sliced sandwich bread (honey wheat or similar is lovely but let personal preference be your guide)

Peanut Butter (salted, preferred)

Fluff (or, blaspheme, whatever kind of marshmallow creme you're able to get your hands on)

Instructions:

1. Spread peanut butter generously on one slice of bread.

2. Spread fluff slightly less generously on the second.

3. Sandwich slices together, slice down the middle and wrap tightly in waxed paper.

For the curious:

Purists should know that James found Toonie Moonie at the small grocery store close to my parents' house, where you can also get freshly ground peanut butter, so that's what we used in lieu of the New England classic. It was delicious, if (I’m guessing) approximately triple the cost.

Speaking of peanut butter, I try not to be overly snobbish about this sort of thing, but freshly ground peanut butter is so superior to the stuff mixed with palm oil that it's hardly comparable. Plus, unlike other natural peanut butters, it hasn't spent long in the jar and been given time to separate, so there's none of that oily, strenuous mixing to be done. Highly recommend if you're able.

And now: Calling all favorite beach fare from each of you!