Sequencing subverts the natural chaos of the world and helps create a more harmonious existence with the universe. It provides order where there is none and a haven from the onslaught of anarchy. Deep satisfaction is gained knowing you correctly anticipated the events of the world, prepared accordingly against them, and executed efficiently on the steps in order to achieve an end result. Proper sequencing provides efficiency in time and minimizes material waste. 

Sequencing is very important when making a peanut butter and banana open-faced sandwich. We’ll begin where any sequence begins: the components. In this case, the components are ingredients which include peanut butter, bananas, and bread. In my ideal open-faced sandwich the peanut butter is natural and made with only one ingredient: peanuts. The bananas can be any bananas, although I prefer them lightly speckled with brown spots. The bread can be any bread, although I am partial to Ezekiel bread, which I do not buy because it is grain free but because it tastes good.

In terms of materials you may need to prepare the sandwich there are only a few, and you can generally make due if you do not have these specific items on hand. I prefer to use a toaster oven but a toaster will suffice, and if you’re in a real pinch, you can fire up your oven and blast that singular slice of bread. If the situation is really dire, or if your preferences lead you to this route, you may skip the toasting step. (A quick warning: if you skip the toasting step you will miss out on the critical soft crunch that the toasted bread provides.) I also use one knife, or sometimes two, depending on if I am or am not in the mood to rinse off the banana coated knife (for slicing) to then dip into the peanut butter (for spreading.) 

Although it may seem the sequencing of your snack begins with the assembly of the ingredients in your kitchen, it really begins with the selection and preparation of the ingredients. First, there are the bananas. You are subject to whatever you can find at your local grocery store,  but once you buy the bananas you must make a critical assessment on when it is ideal to eat them. As I have gotten older, I have not only grown more and more comfortable with the brown spots on bananas, but now, in fact, welcome them. The spots usually indicate the banana is on the precipice of turning too-soft while still basking in the sunny sweet ripeness at the top of the cliff, right before the edge drops off. Some people prefer the chalkier, slightly bitter taste of a barely-ripe, or pre-ripe banana. Wait for your banana to hit the color of preference, and then make your sandwich. If you do not know, experiment.

Then, there’s the sequencing of the peanut butter. I buy natural peanut butter because I enjoy the taste but this adds in a number of steps you must calculate in to achieve proper sequencing. The one necessary evil of natural peanut butter is that due to the absence of additives, the oil separates from the peanut butter and leaves a dense peanut butter concentrate at the bottom of the jar that is achingly dreadful and painfully time consuming to break up and mix back with the oil. Because I prefer the taste of natural peanut butter, and can sense it is better not to have a binding ingredient in my body, I have learned how to approach the separation so that when I am finally ready to make my peanut butter-banana sandwich my sequencing is not completely thrown off.

For years I dreaded opening a fresh jar. The peanut butter would be so dense and dry at the bottom that it would be thickly caked like cement, near impossible to mix perfectly with the inch and a half of oil pooled at the top. Truly, even with vigorous mixing it would take a few weeks to properly come together. Then one day I made a discovery: you could store your peanut butter upside down. The weeks, or possibly months of separation that occurred in the grocery store sitting upright could be offset in short time, given that the oil would be want to rise to the top, breaking up the cement like paste at the “bottom” (top.) 

Would you ever have guessed so much proper sequencing could go into even just the assembly of ingredients? 

Now let’s turn to preparation.

Take out all of the ingredients and place them on the counter. Begin toasting the bread to the lightness or darkness of your liking. I personally prefer a true medium brown. It gives a certain firmness and structure to the bread that will hold the weight of the peanut butter and bananas, without losing the chewy softness of the bread’s innards. 

As you are toasting the bread, take out a plate, place it on the counter, then begin chopping the banana. I start by peeling a singular panel of the banana, and then cradling the whole curve in my hand. I use what could only be described as nearly-a-butter-knife to chop the banana into rounds, using my hands and the rest of the banana peel to cup the banana. If you are using a sharper knife do not cut into your hand. Once cut, place the banana onto a plate. 

If you are still waiting for the toaster to ding, you can take this opportunity to put away the bread, throw away the banana peel, and open up the peanut butter. Depending on the time you have left to toast, you should stir the peanut butter around for good measure. 

Ding! Your toast is ready. But wait— before you just go and grab that hot toast, instead open up the toaster oven to let the heat escape. Or, if you do not have a toaster oven, take out the bread and rest it leaning up against the side of the peanut butter jar (with both sides of the toast facing out.) Let it cool for 30 seconds so as to cool down the bread, and keep it propped up so that the heat does not create steam which will turn your toast soggy. This step is critical in ensuring your peanut butter won’t melt and run off the plate and onto your hands. This is neither the consistency nor the place you want your peanut butter. 

Once the toast is sufficiently cool, the peanut butter can be spread. Then, using the knife, place each round in rows on top of the spread. Depending on your ratio preference you can stack the bananas, but I prefer that each banana butts up against the next, crowded in but never too full.

As with most things in life, you can make do if your sequencing is off. The banana might be a bit bitter in its under ripeness, or revolting in its mushiness. The peanut butter might be dry on one bite and overly oily on another bite. You might be so hungry or in a rush or you simply don’t mind that the peanut butter is wildly melty, covering your hands and plate in peanut butter. At the end of it, however, you will still have had a delicious open-faced peanut butter and banana sandwich.

If you mess up the sequencing, but want to show your respect for it, feel free to yell out “Sequencing! Sequencing! Sequencing!” as a reminder that sequencing is what we strive for.