Peanut brittle and I haven’t been on speaking terms since, oh, junior high when, with a full set of adult chompers, I realized that one of two things will happen when I bite into the hardened treat: I’ll either crack a bicuspid (or feel like I did) or spend the rest of the afternoon prying the sticky matter from the divots in my teeth.

No thank you. The joys of brittle, I determined long ago, simply weren’t worth the dental troubles.

Earlier this week, however, a friend and colleague gave me a 12-ounce bag of Betty Jane’s “gourmet” peanut brittle, which was made by one of her Vienna neighbors. My friend even gave me a sample from her own stock, which was down to small broken pieces, crumbs, and brown dust. She was practically embarrassed by her rate of peanut brittle consumption.

Less than two days later, I understand. My 12 ounces are gone (although I had some help from Loose Lips, who obviously made unauthorized raids on my stash while I was away), and now I’m looking for my next fix. Fast!

Betty Jane’s brittle is different from just about any other I’ve sampled over the years, which, admittedly, has been few. (See opening paragraph above.) It doesn’t have the kind of tooth-cracking density that I’ve come to associate with brittle. It’s airy without sacrificing crunchiness, and it’s sweet without sacrificing good, salty peanut flavor. Now, I’ll admit that Betty Jane’s brittle isn’t the purest expression of goober art. I’ve had others that tasted as if the brittle were pulled straight from the Virginia soil.

But no brittle has addicted me as quickly as Betty Jane’s. I swear to the God of Goober Peas that I couldn’t stop eating these irregular pieces of brittle. At one point, I decided to check the ingredient list to make sure it didn’t include heroin or meth or something. Instead, I noticed a rather Old School list of baking ingredients: light corn syrup, cornstarch, even margarine. I was reminded of my own run-in with the Betty Crocker-era of cooking. It was yet another reminder that tasty things can come from humble ingredients.

Betty Jane’s recipe, it turns out, comes from someone named — what else? — Betty Jane, who kept her seven children stuffed with confections of all kinds. But it was her brittle that everyone loved, according to this backgrounder, and it’s her brittle that daughter, Bobbie and son-in-law John, are making and selling as an homage to Betty Jane. They do it right there in Vienna.

You can order it online, or you can purchase it at several stores in the area.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

According to the New York Times, Americans seem to be coping with the economic downturn by gobbling down obscene amounts of Necco Wafers and other sugary treats. I read this piece with great interest, since my own candy intake appears to be rising. ‘Course, I blamed it on blogging, which is probably worse on your health (and the environment) than red meat.

Reports the Times:

The recession seems to have a sweet tooth. As unemployment has risen and 401(k)’s have shrunk, Americans, particularly adults, have been consuming growing volumes of candy, from Mary Janes and Tootsie Rolls to Gummy Bears and cheap chocolates, say candy makers, store owners and industry experts.

Theories vary on exactly why. For many, sugar lifts spirits dragged low by the languishing economy. For others, candy also provides a nostalgic reminder of better times. And not insignificantly, it is relatively cheap.

Given this information, Y&H wonders if other restaurants will follow the lead of Liberty Tavern and replace their brunch dessert bars with candy ones.

But now the Food and Drug Administration is changing that. Earlier this week, the FDA issued a rule requiring manufacturers to list cochineal dye among the ingredients (rather than concealing it as “artificial colors” or “color added”). As this ABC News story reports, the new requirement has nothing to do with alerting consumers to a potential a gross-out factor:

Instead, the FDA is doing so to help prevent dangerous anaphylactic reactions in people who are allergic to the insects and are unknowingly ingesting and/or rubbing the colorful bug powder on their faces.

The labeling of “these color additives in all foods and cosmetics is necessary to ensure their safe use,” stated the FDA report issued Monday.

The new requirement was, in part, a response to a citizen petition about the allergic reactions, first launched in 1998 by the Center for Science in the Public Interest, according to the FDA report. But the final rule doesn’t go as far as the center had wanted: an overall ban of the ingredient or a required label to explain that carmine is “insect-derived.”

“We wanted people to know that it comes from an insect,” said Michael Jacobson, the center’s executive director. “Vegetarians, Jews, anybody else who has concerns about eating animal products should know that.”