Peanut butter: that smooth and satiny concotion, so creamy it melts on your tongue, or excitingly chunky with unexpected peanuts. I invented my own personal peanut butter sandwich variation when I was 8 or so, just after I was allowed to start experimenting in the kitchen.
First, I must explain that my mother does not keep a gourmet kitchen, with pine nuts and lentils and proscuitto galore; our spice cabinet has had the same jars of spices since my parents bought the house, which was in 1979. It is a basic kitchen, a kitchen that, if incapable of illuminating your taste buds, will at the very least fill your stomach. So I did the best I could with what our kitchen had, and considering I was only 8 this recipe really isn't that bad.
Super Sandwich
Lightly toast rye bread in toaster, so that it is slightly crisp and golden brown. Schmear peanut butter liberally on each slice. Lay lettuce leaves over each slice so that it acts as a base. Lay one layer only of tomato slices on lettuce leaves (too many tomatoes will make it too hard to bite through). Add pickle slices on top of the tomatoes, and carefully place the halves of the sandwich together (if you used enough peanut butter, it won't fall apart).
Many people balk at the idea of eating dill pickles on a peanut butter sandwich, but the lettuce and tomatoes act as a taste barrier, making the pickle juice-peanut butter combination surprisingly subtle. I would suggest not eating this sandwich with jelly (jam for non-Americans), since it goops up the whole construction; also, unlike peanut butter and pickles, jelly and pickles really doesn't work.