American Peanuts? Really?

Here in Tel Aviv, where our soul food kitchen is located, you can buy these things from any kiosk from any corner in any part of town: encrusted peanuts in a salty/sweet shell. They are called “American Peanuts.” My Aunt Millie, who passed away this week at the age of 90 and was careful to watch her figure, had a softness for American peanuts (and french fries and Cheetos, but that’s another story). Nirit and I would bring her big packages of the stuff when we visited each year.

First of all, like any great umami-laden dish, American peanuts have this perfect blend of sweet and salt, with a great crunchiness that tells you, hey any harder than this and I am probably going to need to visit the dentist. I get why Millie loved American Peanuts. They’re addictive. Here’s the rub: I have never seen this type of peanut for sale in the States, much less associated with my native country.

From what I can tell, these so-called “American Peanuts” are actually a culinary creation of Mexico. Let’s give credit where credit is due. There is a so-called Japanese snack with wasabi-covered peanuts that also seems to originate in Mexico. Which gives me pause to wonder if perhaps Mexico is losing out when it comes to culinary branding. Hey, my home state of Georgia lays claim to the only sweet onion, the Vidalia Onion, when there are plenty of other locales with a similar product. But I digress.

My Aunt Millie loved her American Peanuts. On the sly. Usually with white wine and a generous dollop of salacious gossip. God bless her. Not everything has to be so politically correct.