This is the story of how I, a humble graphic design minion, came to make the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich that ever existed.

Last Thursday, my roommates and I trekked the six blocks to the Riverdale Park Farmer’s Market that is held every week in the town center. It was a journey of many perils, since numerous drivers in Riverdale Park are not aware that their car is surrounded by mirrors, and a number of others prefer to park in active lanes of traffic. But alas, we three cleared these obstacles and a moving train to make it to the farmers market. There I was to encounter Clinger’s Natural Cajun Peanut Butter from my native land of Wicomico County, and also purchase a loaf of homemade semolina bread from Stone Hearth Bakery of Frederick, Maryland.

Also of note I purchased some bad-ass crab cakes from Shells Yes!, but those do not pertain to this story.

For several days the bread and cajun peanut butter remained forgotten in my apartment as I went home for Mother’s Day. Yesterday for lunch I don’t remember what I ate, but it doesn’t matter anymore because today in my haste I assembled the aforementioned products and some sugar free strawberry jelly to create the Greatest Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich in the history of elementary grade level lunches. The bread was refreshing considering that for the past week I had been eating accidentally-purchased gluten free bread that had the dusty texture of compressed cat litter, birdseed and whatever contents you might expect to find in a Shop-Vac. The peanut butter was so spicy that my sinuses cleared out and I was able to breathe correctly for the first time in several days. The Smucker’s sugar-free strawberry jelly displayed its usual sweet flavor and reduced risk of contributing to diabetes.

If you get excited about homemade products, then I highly recommend that you support your local produce stands and farmer’s markets this summer. I am glad that Riverdale Park has such a great turnout every week at their market; I have really been missing the omnipresent, locally owned stands that I was used to on the Eastern Shore.