It is funny how certain memories can suddenly bubble up from the back of your mind after years of silence. One moment you are going about your day, and the next you are hit with a vivid flash of something you have not thought about since you were a kid. That is exactly what happened when Superman Peanut Butter drifted back into my thoughts.
Peanut butter has always been a staple in American homes. You can find it in kitchen cabinets, lunch boxes, and lunch pails all across the country. It feels patriotic in its own way, sitting right behind apple pie on the list of foods that feel unmistakably American. And you know what else feels patriotic? Superman. If you slap Superman’s name and image on a jar of peanut butter, you have something that feels like it could fuel truth, justice, and the American way.
At least that is how it felt to a bunch of kids growing up in the rural 80s. We were convinced that Superman Peanut Butter was the official snack of freedom. After lunch at school, we would head out to recess and play Superman versus The Russians on the playground. No joke. We had our bellies full of Superman Peanut Butter sandwiches and were out there defending the blacktop from the red menace like we were extras in Red Dawn. It felt serious. It felt important. I even started a super secret spy club to help combat the threat we heard about on the news every night. Looking back, it was equal parts adorable and ridiculous, but at the time it felt like we were doing our part.
As for the peanut butter itself, I cannot honestly say it tasted better than Skippy, Peter Pan, or Jif. From what I have read since then, Superman Peanut Butter may have been a cheaper variety. None of that mattered to me. That jar with Superman on the label is what I still think of when I think about peanut butter from my childhood. It was the brand that lived on our table, the one that fueled countless sandwiches, and the one that made me feel like I was eating something special.
There is one memory tied to it that stands out more than any other. It was January 28, 1986. School was closed because of snow, and I was sitting on the floor of our basement where I usually played. In front of me was a Superman Peanut Butter sandwich. On the television was the live broadcast of the Space Shuttle Challenger launch. I remember the excitement, the countdown, the lift off, and then the moment everything changed. It was one of those days when you always remember exactly where you were and what you were doing. I remember the shock, the confusion, and the heaviness that settled over the room. And I remember taking a bite of that sandwich, trying to make sense of something that made no sense at all.
Superman Peanut Butter did not fix anything that day, but it was a small comfort in a moment when comfort was needed. It is strange how food can attach itself to memories like that. Sometimes it is the taste. Sometimes it is the packaging. Sometimes it is the moment you were living through when you ate it.
For me, Superman Peanut Butter is all of those things. It is childhood lunches. It is playground battles. It is snow days and old basement carpet. It is a jar with a hero on the front and a thousand memories inside.
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I was born in 1966 and I remember Superman peanut butter clear as day. It was my favorite over all the other brands because it did taste different. It was sugary! You could taste sugar in it! And if you were like me growing up in SoCal, your lunchtime staple was a “fluffy nutter”….peanut butter and marshmallow fluff! If you know, you know, and I’m telling you, that sandwich was awesome!