Every time I think of boiled peanuts I am reminded of the time when my inlaws came to Florida.
My mother was living in Florida at the time. She's in her 80s and there's not a thing wrong with her faculties; she is my role model. However, at this time, she was on a combination of medicines that did something temporarily to turn her into this stereotypical old lady with a cane. Reminds me of that woman on the advert "He's not your dad. We don't know who your dad is."
She wanted my inlaws to have the full Florida experience, and as we drove up to the airport in Orlando, for them to be put on a plane going back to the UK, she insisted on taking the route through the more "scenic" bits (the middle) and stopping and getting them some boiled peanuts, even though we were running late for the flight.
Let's just say that Marmite causes the same sort of reaction in people.