In an orange Clemson T-shirt as a coat of
arms and a turkey fryer as a shield, Rock Hill boiled peanut seller Tom
Nivens is an unlikely road warrior/state ambassador.
But Nivens is only a signature from Gov. Mark Sanford away from
goodwill status as hawker of the state's official snack food.
Nivens even used that point this week to close a sale on a guy from
Ohio heading toward a fishing hole. Six bucks in cash on two $3 bags.
"I never thought I'd be selling the official state snack food, but
here I am," Nivens said.
Boiled peanuts are the love 'em or hate 'em hallmark of the state's
roadsides. A couple of months ago, prompted by an idea from Winthrop
University graduate and peanut lover Tom Stanford, state Rep. Gary
Simrill introduced a bill that would make boiled peanuts the official
state snack food. The House said 'fine' after little shell gnashing, and
now the full Senate has cracked an OK. The bill awaits Sanford's
approval, said Simrill, R-Rock Hill.
The fate of the boiled peanut is unclear because the bill has not yet
reached the governor's desk, said Joel Sawyer, a spokesman for Sanford.
"I'm going to call the governor myself to see where he stands, but I
don't see any reason why he wouldn't like a Southern specialty like the
boiled peanut," Simrill said.
Stanford got the idea from a Winthrop club discussion and has since
become something of a minor peanut celebrity. He hopes to be at the
Statehouse if or when the bill becomes law.
"I just had some boiled peanuts this weekend up at Clemson when I was
at the baseball games," Stanford said. "Good, too."
Boiled peanut sellers don't need a license from the state, said
spokespersons from the S.C. Department of Labor, Licensing and
Regulation and the S.C. Department of Health and Environmental Control.
Peanuts after boiling pose little threat to health, said DHEC's Clair
Boatwright. A customers' eyes and nose would notice anything unusual,
she said.
"A moldy peanut is the kiss of death," said Nivens, who has been
boiling peanuts since his first job in the seventh grade.
To be an official state boiled peanut -- labeled "delicious" for
eternity if the bill is signed into law -- the goober must be boiled in
its shell at least an hour. But Nivens boils his peanuts at home for
about nine hours at a "good boil but not too high a fire," to get the
right consistency of mouth feel that connoisseurs would say is perfectly
mushy/salty. Naysayers might claim a boiled peanut is worse than an,
'I'm-here-for-the-summer' kiss full on the lips from the mother-in-law.
Nivens cooks at home then keeps his peanuts warm for sale streetside
in a cooker powered by propane.
"Guy from Virginia stopped just a few days ago and thought I was
selling fried turkey," Nivens said. "Told him he could have peanuts and
make believe it tasted like turkey."
Nivens runs "Wanda's Peanuts" from a White Street parking lot along
with his wife, Wanda Millstead. In true roadside tradition, Nivens'
buddy, J.B. Crawford, sits on the tailgate of Nivens' pickup truck/store
as security guard and chief tall-tale teller. Shaun Nichols sits in a
lawn chair like the sergeant-at-arms. Nivens' hand-painted sign on a
piece of plywood stuck on a pole anchored in a bucket just says
"P-nuts."
"It's peanuts spelled out, officially," Millstead said, "but he just
ran out of room on the sign."
Andrew Dys • 329-4065
adys@heraldonline.com
