It's strange to find a Fried Peanut Butter and Banana sandwich, famous as Elvis Presley's favorite, on a restaurant menu, given its effect on Elvis. It's like finding a store selling an Isadora Duncan commemorative scarf.
Nonetheless, freelance radio producer Melissa LaCasse and I decided to try the one offered by The Breslin in New York, listed as "fried peanut butter & banana sandwich with bourbon & vanilla."
Melissa: How many of these do you sell?
Server: About four a day. Mostly at brunch. People think they're a hangover cure.
Peter: Or they're still drunk.
Peter: The fried part is essential. Because like castor beans, peanut butter and banana is not lethal in its natural state.
Melissa: I'm conflicted about this sandwich. On one hand it's so good, but on the other hand it's so very bad. It's like that guy who gets all the ladies but just doesn't deserve to.
Peter: Yeah ... as I eat it, I'm overwhelmed by the conviction that I can somehow change it.
Melissa: Back when I was single, I used to change the contact info of this kind of guy — the alluring bad boy — in my phone to read "no" when the call came in. If this sandwich were a guy, it would be a definite "no" in the phone.
Peter: It would be great if the server had the same function. "I'd like the fried peanut butter and --" "NO!"
Melissa: Thank yuh veruh much ...
Peter: I thought you didn't like Elvis.
Melissa: I don't. I'm just talking that way because my mouth is stuck together.
[The verdict: Incredibly delicious. Sweet and fried and salty and great, with a strong aroma of bourbon and vanilla.]
Sandwich Monday is a satirical feature from the humorists at Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me.
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