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Sometime between walking through the door of the new Trader Vic's and slurping my way to the bottom of a Tiki Bowl at the bar, I lost my pen. I had to borrow one from the hostess, but I'm still reasonably sure I didn't blow my cover, even as I later scribbled down illegibles about the peanut butter sauce that comes with the bread service.
My review proper of TV's return to town will show up at the end of the month, but for now let me say that this stuff is sweet, sticky, and trashy. It will frost the deep-fried thousand-layer gooey butter cake that scaly incubi will force-feed Paula Deen when she goes to hell.
It's also irresistible.
As per the recipe in Stephen Siegelman's cookbook Trader Vic's Tiki Party, smooth peanut butter is doped with coconut milk, lemon juice, and soy, Worcestershire, and Tabasco sauces. It ain't a sauce. It's an adhesive. We started schmearing it on the lavash, Parker House rolls, and doughy multigrain bread that came to the table, and went through a basket and a half before realizing it would soon make our appetizers and entrees impossible to attack. Our excellent and sadistic busser packed it with an extra scoopful at the end of the night.
You got your chocolate in my peanut butter: that mint-chocolate tiki head mocking me in the photo is the mignardise that comes with the fortune cookies.