I hesitate to call the candied nut confection known as “brittle” a treat. Snack doesn’t quite seem to fit either. Candy seems appropriate but let’s be real, not many folks are going to reach past the PB cups for another shard. Count me as surprised when I cracked a jar of Three Flavors Farms-cultivated Peanut Brittle and found it to be both a treat and a snack, not to mention something I’ll gladly re-up when my jar runs low.
Though the name is a throwback to the days when the candy was an unattractive slab, the cultivar itself is a modern combo of Platinum Girl Scout Cookies and Peanut Butter Breath. Even with that pedigree, the flower stands out against the other jars on your typical top-shelf. This jar is filled with chunky, coin-sized buds and very little breakage. Black sugar leaves offset by sparkling white trichomes and forest green calyxes catch my attention, while sweet scents of freshly-turned earth, roasting nuts and unleaded gasoline fill my nostrils upon opening the jar. It’s a savory smell that’s a bit like green coffee beans hitting that “first-crack” stage of roasting – musty and acetic with a hint of those natural sugars starting to caramelize. Add a dash of fresh peanut butter fudge and you’ve got a pretty good handle on Peanut Brittle’s profile.
The inhale leans toward the Platinum Cookies with motor-oil thick hits that fill the room with a sweet and fragrant funk. The effect is pleasant and relaxing, and after a half gram joint, I’m ready to sink into a nearby chair for the foreseeable future, or spend an hour researching which hammock to buy. Focused but chill, Peanut Brittle is great for winding down after a tough day or giving yourself a good excuse to catch a mid-afternoon nap.
After winning an Oregon Growers Cup with this strain in late 2020, Three Flavors knew they had something special on their hands. They’ve kept this one in the rotation ever since, dialing it in and coaxing those bonus flavors out of this excellent herb. Don’t let the old-school name trick you into thinking you’re getting grandma-candy … this one is far from it.
This article was originally published in the April 2022 issue of Oregon Leaf.
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