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Peanut Butter Pinwheels — The Peanut That Bridges Every Table

Labor Day weekend. Cookout at my place — twenty-eight people. The numbers keep going up. Word has gotten out in the neighborhood that the Tran cookouts are an open thing — bring something or don't, but come. Mr. Washington brought a peach cobbler his daughter had baked. The Salvadoran family two doors down (the Hernándezes) brought pupusas. The young Vietnamese family that moved in across the street last spring brought a tray of bánh khọt (mini coconut shrimp pancakes). The Sudanese family on the corner — newer to the neighborhood — brought a beef stew called shata that James had to taste twice and then ask for the recipe. The cookout has become a UN summit with smoke.

Tyler brought Marcus to Houston for the long weekend — he wanted Marcus to meet "the cookout" before Jade arrives, which is Tyler's way of saying he wanted Marcus to be the only kid for one more time before he becomes the older brother. Marcus, now nine months old, sat on a blanket in the grass and watched the chaos with the wide eyes of a baby who has never seen this many people in one yard. Ava, two years one month, took it upon herself to introduce him to everyone. "This is Marcus. This is Marcus. This is Marcus." She said his name approximately one hundred times. Marcus did not respond. He is still in the receptive-language stage. He understood that his name was important.

James cooked the goat. A whole young goat I had ordered from the halal butcher in Stafford on his recommendation. James seasoned it with suya spice (his Nigerian dry rub: peanuts, ginger, paprika, garlic, salt, white pepper, cayenne) and we cooked it on the offset smoker for eight hours over a mix of post oak and pecan. The skin crackled. The meat fell off the bone. Sliced and served with jollof rice, a tomato-pepper sauce, and Vietnamese pickled vegetables on the side. Cross-cultural at the bone. The goat was the centerpiece. James got compliments from people who had never tasted goat before. James said, "This is how you change minds — feed people what they're afraid of, prepared in a way they recognize." That's a James sentence. That's a chef sentence. I wrote it down.

After James explained suya spice to half the neighborhood — standing there in the smoke, listing off ingredients with the confidence of someone who has made this a hundred times — what stuck with me most was that peanuts are the foundation. That was the anchor. Everything else in the rub builds around them. So when the cookout wound down and Ava was finally asleep and I was still thinking about that goat, I found myself in the kitchen making something I could share at the next one: Peanut Butter Pinwheels, dead simple, no oven, the kind of thing you slice and pile on a plate and people eat before they even ask what they are. Peanuts, again. Full circle.

Peanut Butter Pinwheels

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes (plus 1 hour chill) | Total Time: 1 hour 20 minutes | Servings: 24 pieces

Ingredients

  • 2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
  • 1 cup creamy peanut butter (not natural-style)
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine salt
  • 1 1/2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • 1 teaspoon neutral oil (such as vegetable or canola), for thinning chocolate

Instructions

  1. Make the peanut butter dough. In a large mixing bowl, beat together the peanut butter, softened butter, and vanilla extract until smooth and fully combined. Add the sifted powdered sugar and salt, and mix until a soft, pliable dough forms. If the dough feels sticky, add powdered sugar one tablespoon at a time until it holds its shape without sticking to your hands.
  2. Roll out the dough. Place the dough between two sheets of parchment paper and roll it into a rectangle approximately 10 by 12 inches and about 1/4 inch thick. Slide the parchment-sandwiched sheet onto a baking tray and refrigerate for 15 minutes to firm up slightly.
  3. Melt the chocolate. Combine the chocolate chips and oil in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring between each, until fully melted and smooth. Let cool for 3 to 4 minutes so it is spreadable but not hot.
  4. Spread and roll. Remove the top sheet of parchment from the dough. Spread the melted chocolate in an even layer over the entire surface, leaving a 1/2-inch border along one long edge. Starting from the opposite long edge, use the parchment to help you roll the dough tightly into a log. Press gently but firmly as you go to keep the roll tight and even.
  5. Chill the log. Wrap the finished log in parchment or plastic wrap, twisting the ends to seal. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or until completely firm. The log can be refrigerated overnight for best results.
  6. Slice and serve. Using a sharp knife, slice the log into rounds approximately 1/2 inch thick. Arrange on a plate and serve at room temperature. Store any leftovers in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to one week.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 175 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 80mg

Bobby Tran
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 474 of Bobby’s 30-year story · Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.

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