January 12, 2012 § 36 Comments
Banana bread and I go way back. Way.
It was “my thing” for a while, actually.
Growing up, my mother’s baking repertoire was very nearly purebred Norwegian, and concentrated solely on holidays. The rest of the time the oven’s use was confined to roasts and braises. If it wasn’t boller, birthday cake, or a Christmas cookie, it didn’t get baked at our house.
But, every now and then at a friend’s house I would be invited to have a bite of something wonderful for a snack. A lace-thin slice of intensely moist, banana flavored, bread-cake, shot through with the little black squiggles that banana bread develops, and now and then with melting chocolatey chunks. Best. Snack. Ever. I was convinced of it. I would dream of it often during the long, stark periods during which I had to do without.