jacked-up banana bread

Confession time again! Do you see these babies? The brown, spotty, past their prime, and about 36 hours from luring in fruit flies bananas? I love them. They’re my absolute favorite. I know, I know how gross that is. I know I know that most people would pick those up only to walk them over to the trash. I know, I know you’re horrified that I could love something so rotten, and for all of these reasons, I am forced to live my life as a closeted freckled banana eater.

The list of people who know my secret is as follows: Alex, but he married me anyway; my mother-in-law, who was about to throw some old bananas out one day and I gave myself up, yelping “Wait!” at the last moment; the lady at the bodega where I get my yogurt and fruit each morning, who watches me sift daily through the bright, yellow ones on top for the sordid, unlovable ones at the bottom of the pile; Molly, who I confessed my banana sin to in a moment of cream cheese-frosted camaraderie; and now you. Go easy on me, please.

My love of the spotty banana, unfortunately, conflicts with one of my other loves — banana bread. You see, exactly when the bananas hit their bread-making prime time, I don’t want to share them with anyone. I’m serious. I haven’t made it in years. But, I’m feeling generous this week, and also in need of a treat, and yes, I know so-called calorie-watching on top of my other aches and pains sounds an insult to, well, you know, but if I can’t exercise for so many weeks, something is going to have to give. Yet, seven days into this I’m itching for a little something-something, something small and tame, and when I saw this recipe on Elise’s stunning site, I thought, for once, “Well, maybe I could share.”

Oddly, and perhaps complimentary, enough, I found myself using Simply Recipes for this bread the way I use Epicurious: rummaging through each and every comment until I’m certain the adjustments I’m itching to make will work. And then? I jacked it up. I replaced white sugar with the light brown variety, and cut back on it, too; I added a splash of bourbon, salted butter, and then doses of cinnamon, nutmeg, and even cloves. And also, though it goes without saying by now, mixed it with one hand. I hope Elise’s friend’s friend doesn’t mind that I bastardized her recipe, I just couldn’t resist gilding the lily, as usual. And that one tablespoon of bourbon? This is no time to fixate on accurate measurements.

It was just what the doctor ordered. [Actually, no, the doctor this morning ordered six full weeks in the sling, but let’s just talk about that another time, okay?] Let me rephrase: this is how I interpreted what the doctor ordered, and can you blame me? This is the height of banana bread perfection and all those little extras manage to add something fantastic without overwhelming the base flavor. It’s my new go-to recipe and Elise, you did my adored bananas proud.