You see, making banana bread takes careful planning, but even the most carefully conceived plans can change.
For a week or two, I’ve been waiting for the entire bunch of golden, curved fruits to lose their luster and for their skin quickly shrivel and darken to an almost sinister brown-black hue. I hunted for the perfect walnuts to complement their intense, buttery flavor (that once hinted of a balmy Ecuadorian day, I’d like to think) and carefully chopped them into perfectly angled slivers. My sugar, butter, eggs, baking powder and soda came together in what was, at first, a recipe that someone somewhere had masterminded at some time, and then was quickly improved upon.
The two bananas became three, the 5 1/2 tablespoons of butter doubled, and cinnamon and honey somehow worked its way into my batter. Crumbly batter the consistency of “brown sugar”? Pah. My batter was a beautiful, daffodil yellow color that reminded me of the sun.
The Joy of Cooking brings joy into my life (me = FOODIE), but the volume didn’t say anything about this lovely smell that is wafting into my bedroom and throughout my apartment and replacing all of my rational thoughts with the singular longing of hunger.
My stomach is singing. . .
I’ll post the recipe after I try some. I need to conduct a, er, quality control check first. It wouldn’t do to distribute a crappy new recipe, right?
[5 minutes later]
I pulled it out of the oven, and I’ve realized that it’s too beautiful to cut. I’ll have to get someone else to dispatch my warm bundle of joy for me because I just can’t bring myself to dissect these beautifully crunchy crags that were once the golden banana batter that I nurtured and churned into something extraordinary.
Success.
I couldn’t resist. I think that the thing deserves to have its picture taken.
Hurray for making breakfast tomorrow! Now, I guess I’ll make dinner?
…frozen burrito time!
