I’ve got to hand it to bananas. For being popular they’re a pretty terrible fruit. Eating one that hasn’t reached its prime it just about enjoyable as eating a raw avocado — you cut it open and realize you’ve ruined it. It’s awful to eat and there’s no use in waiting because it’ll stay just about as terrible. It’s such a gamble really. You almost have to form this bond, a trust with the fruit. Like you’re saying, Hey, I’m not sure if you’re ready, but I sure am so let’s make this happen. Then there’s one that far gone. As soon as you pick it up you find that mush feeling means it’s too late. You can add it to cereal. You can try and eat it. But much past that means getting smart about it. And smart, in my mind, means banana bread.
I didn’t eat banana bread much growing up. I ate something like banana bread, but with shredded zucchini and chocolate chips and a whole lotta love. It meant the bread was more moist and the million cups of sugar in the recipe meant that it was also sweet. Like sticking your tongue in sugar. Really, really good banana sugar. So I tried an alternative. It was perfection.
(Looking for the recipe I used? Try it out on Smitten Kitchen)