Sunday, December 14, 2008

The Nut Bread Caper of '85

One of the FEW things Hubby likes about Winter is my compulsion to bake. (Ya, most of the year the kitchen and I don't stay acquainted.)

Not one to substitute an ingredient, toss in a sprinkle of this or a pinch of that, it's the exactness of these recipes I find comforting. My favorite? An ages old version of banana-nut bread. Modesty aside, family and friends have raved about it ... or pretended to, which is really sweet.

Have you ever heard of a
Plantain? I'd not either, until going to live in Florida. Trust me, they are Evil.

Come December, I purchased a sack of "bananas" and set them aside to age. But even after a week they stubbornly remained a canary-p**p yellow.
Hmm, I reckoned to hurry the process via the microwave's "thaw" feature. Nothing.
OK, let's peel and slice. (Note to self: what a strange, thick peel!)
Repeat the thaw cycle, then hit 'em with the mixer ... again, they refused to yield.
Short of slipping a baggie over my boot and stomping them into submission -- I was puzzled ... and peeved.

Tossing remains in the garbage, I abandoned the notion of baking that night.
The next morning, however, I couldn't resist grabbing a survivor to bring to the office. "What do you make of this? Suppose it's a mutant, something of value?"
I caught the look that passed between co-workers; their efforts not to giggle: "That's not a banana. You're holding a plantain!"

Nope I never tasted it, or tried mixing it with other self-respecting food groups. Simply, I was afraid ... very afraid.

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