Nut in me, nut in you: Massive’s Peanut Butter Review
Whether you’re throwing it in a stir-fry or smothering it on toast at 2am, peanut butter is a sexy, sultry staple for any sensible student. A little bit salty, a little bit sweet, it’s the perfect snack for lovers (let’s just say peanut butter won’t be the only thing you spread).
But with so much variety to choose from, what is the best? Is it worth spending more bucks; will you get more bangs? Massive ventured to find out.
For the purposes of this experiment, we decided to taste test all the different varieties of crunchy peanut butter that we could find at our local Countdown (not sponsored). Sorry to smooth fans, you’re objectively wrong about your preferences. Life is dull and meaningless and a little bit of crunch is the only thing that keeps me going. Crunch, crunch, crunch!
Essentials Crunch:
This is, perhaps, the least offensive peanut butter to ever exist. It’s extraordinarily edible, purely because there’s no risks taken. No bold flavour choices, no drive for texture. Essentials lives and dies by the book; nothing more, nothing less.
Overall, a pleasant, if not underwhelming, condiment. Dull, mild, whatever you want to call it. Oh, and minimal crunch and nuttage. For a cheap little wallop, you can’t really do much better. But for long term satisfaction, Essentials doesn’t really butter the ol’ peanut, if you get me.
Taste: 5/10 Cost: $2.10
Bega:
Bega’s slogan is “never oily, never dry”. We don’t disagree. Great viscosity and spread from this newcomer. Micah, Massive’s designer, was sceptical considering they were an Aussie brand, as he has a deep mistrust of kangaroos (“What are they hiding in those pouches?”) but even he was impressed at the textural components of this fine butter.
However, when it came time for flavour town, there were some bumps in the road. At first bite, I was wowed. Bega packs a fucking punch. But then it kept hitting. And didn’t stop.
Every bite was emotionally confusing. Was it overwhelming? Delicious? Too salty? At the end of it all I was longing for a glass of milk. Reverted back to a stage of infanthood, if you will, pining for a comforting breast to take the pain of life away. We could only handle one small sliver of toast before we had to call it a day.
Overall, Bega took some risks and only some paid off. If you’re a diehard smoker or vape hooner, your tastebuds might love this lively little guy. For everyone else, have a cow handy.
Taste: 7/10 Cost: $4
Sanitarium:
Full disclosure: This is Micah’s go-to brand already, so he was a very biased little man. “Nice amount of bulge,” he complimented the spread as he held it upside down. “Mmm, look at that spread.” From the get-go he was waxing lyrical about his childhood, talking some shit about playing video games and jumping on the trampoline. He was happy, which was unusual for him at work.
As the only objective judge, I was left to make the final call. And this is what I shall say for Sanitarium. It’s VERY creamy. Honestly, just like eating buckets of salted cream. I needed more nuts and I needed them fast. Anything to break up the cream-fest that was happening in my mouth. We bickered a bit about the final rating, but honestly, I think we can all do better than Sanitarium. Sure, it’s great for cereal. But in the famous words of Sharpay Evans: stick to the stuff you know.
Taste: 6.5/10 (Micah was screaming for a 10 as he ran to the bathroom to dry his pants) Cost: $4.70
Macro Organic:
Everyone in the room groaned when we brought this bad boy out. Macro Organics had shat the bed in our last review (baked beans) and no one had high hopes for a comeback.
Upon opening the jar, a thick layer of oil covered our precious spread. “Oh God, it’s going everywhere,” lamented Micah as he tried desperately to stir the mixture together. “It’s fucking half made, it should be half the price.” Clearly someone is against decent wages for peanut butter workers.
But he wasn’t entirely wrong. The smell was funky and the colour was ... off. Compared to its peanut siblings, Macro looked positively puke-like, although thankfully they were generous with the peanuts.
Micah took one bite then grimaced. “This is what a peanut factory would taste like.” He threw the rest of his toast out, cursing under his breath.
However, I’m willing to defend Macro, just a touch. Yes, it’s very peanuty. A roasted peanut flavour, if you will. But isn’t that the point of peanut butter? I’m not going around knocking over jam jars because they taste too much like raspberry.
Macro tried something different. It’s not for everyone, but at least they attempted to go beyond the ordinary. They dared to dream. Should we punish them for that? How can we judge them, when they’ve done more than we’ve ever done?
Taste: 4/10 Cost: $5.50
Mother Earth:
Mother Earth, you mother fucker. Whilst you might offer decent muesli bars, a good peanut butter you doth not maketh.
Once again, there was more oil than a BP spill. Enjoy these quotes by Micah as he attempted to mix the oil and the butter together, accidentally whacking most of it around the room: “Are they literally expecting us to do this?” “Oh God,” and “Mess. There’s so much mess. I can’t get over this. Peanut butter is supposed to be easy.”
Overall, it’s a backpacker’s breakfast, through and through. Oily, bland and a bit stingy on the peanuts. But worst of all: it leaves you feeling dry and miserable.
Taste: 3/10 Cost: $5
Pic’s:
Pic’s is another oily princess, although perhaps not so bad as some of its competitors. Or maybe by this time we were sadly used to the sorry state of the world.
To be fair, Pic’s is actually an excellent peanut butter. But at this point, they were our sixth peanut butter and even if had been laced with gold fucking flakes, I still would have thought it was the most disgusting thing on the planet. There is such a thing as too much peanut butter and, my friends, we found the line that day. A fatigue had set in.
To avoid vomming my breakfast, we took a breather for a couple of hours. By the time we were reintroduced to the butter, I was pleasantly surprised. It’s fun and favourable, with little pops of salt hitting your tongue in a delicious little way. A touch of a dry-mouth feel to the spread, but nothing that doesn’t disappear within seconds of consumption.
However, Pic’s lost a point for the frankly weird way they describe their factory on the bottle: “There lies a magical kingdom where all your peanut butter dreams can come true... the moment The Great Star Door swings open and you step into Pic’s Peanut Butter World; your life will change forever.” This isn’t Alice in Wonderland, chill Pic. We get it, you’ve done LSD. Either share it or shut up.
Taste: 9/10 Cost: $6.90
Fix & Fogg:
Ah Fix & Fogg, you classy bastards. They don’t even have regular crunchy, oh no, they only sell “Super Crunchy”.
Now, I know these guys have a reputation for fun flavours. But without chocolate doing the heavy lifting, how good are the bare bones of the spread? Well, not bad at all. The butter had a mild, almost almond-like taste to it. It wasn’t boring, no, rather refined and elegant.
Fix & Fogg is blended with Marlborough sea salt, which prompted an intense discussion as to whether Marlborough sea salt is different from any other type of sea salt. Micah thought no, passionately yelling “It’s just salt! From the sea!” as various points. I, however, believe in different salts. To each their own.
After a bit of salt-chat, we returned for one final spoonful. Only to realise that...it was a touch oily? In the space of five minutes, the texture had already melted into something more slippery than James Corden’s movie career. Just actually not that nice. Really put a damper on the whole afternoon.
Taste: 7/10 Cost: $6.90
Forty Thieves:
This tub of lovin’ had the best label by far. Just cute vibes all round. And they use pink salt! I felt like I was back in 2016 Tumblr with millennial pink iPhones and Wes Anderson gifs, ready to ravage me.
Forty Thieves advertised themselves as vegan and keto-friendly which, after a bit of research, it turns out practically all peanut butter fits those guidelines. So, a bit overkill on the branding guys, but I’ll forgive you. Gotta respect the hustle.
But asides from looking cute, Forty Thieves failed to make a triumphant splash on the peanut butter scene. The flavour was there, don’t get me wrong. But the texture was DRY. After all the oil disasters of the others, now here we were, gasping for a bit of wetness. I don’t care if it’s natural or lubed up to the heavens. Just a bit of moisture, please sir!
Taste: 6/10 Cost: $6.90
Nut Brothers:
Okay, it has to be said. These guys deserve the win for the name alone. Brothers who nut together, win together.
The good shit came in a HUGE jar (hot!), very big daddy energy, with even bigger nuts. No seriously, some of the nuts weren’t even chopped up. They were just lying there, all coated in the butter of their brothers.
Great texture, yet something was ... off. Well, not even off, but interesting. An unknown entity that no one could put their finger on. It was almost, dare I say, savoury? But not due to salt, oh no. This was another beast altogether. Almost like a smidge of spice (though not spicy), yet we couldn’t find anything on the label that would corroborate this sensation. Nut Brothers was just made of nuts and salt. It was maddening. What are you made of, my friends? What are you hiding?
Taste: 7/10 Cost: $7.49
Our Winner: Pic’s
Sure, it’s on the more expenny end, yet Pic’s somehow still feels like a working man’s butter. It lacks the tacky gentrification of Forty Thieves or Fix & Fogg, whilst still retaining a refined approach to its craft. A delightfully tasty little butter, with nuts aplenty, Pic’s is Massive’s 2021 winner.