Sweet genes.



Throughout the years, I unknowingly took a lot of food cues from my dad. I've mentioned that I grew up in an Italian-American family, but my father and I shared preferences that far transcend the typical wedge of lasagna or tiramisu. 

I'm talking carbs, here. Simple sugars (the whiter and starchier the better) that are broken down and rebirthed into sweet bites of bread, cookies and tarts. Brian likes to tease that when he met me in high school, I would put away chocolate-covered cannolis and cinnamon rolls as though they constituted a square meal. In my mind, they did. Especially the cinnamon rolls. You know, the ones in the can. 

While we were suckers for almost any sweet that passed our way, when I think of my father's favorites I think of three in particular that share a common bond...bananas.

1. Banana Bread--classic American favorite.

2. Bananas Foster--classic dessert reserved for nice meals out when the night calls for a flaming finish.

3. Entenmann's Banana Fudge Cake-- classic American processed indulgence that never, ever expires.

Moral of the story? For starters, I like to think that good taste is passed down and I'm happy to carry the torch in the defense of bananas and more importantly, what they bring to the dessert table.

Secondly, no one should eat that much white flour and sugar. Luckily, we've learned that lesson and now only put our bodies, digestive systems and waistlines through crazy carb fests on special occasions.

Banana Bread

Makes one loaf

This recipe combines the classic elements with some new school ingredients. White sugar is toned down by organic cane sugar and coconut nectar. Eggs are replaced by flax and pureed fruit. Rest-assured: The results are still deliciously old school.

3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1/2 tsp. salt

1 1/2 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. baking powder

1 Tbsp. ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp. groung nutmeg

pinch all spice

3 medium bananas, mashed

1/4 cup apple sauce (I prefer to use apple butter for more flavor)

3 Tbs. flaxmeal*

1 cup cane sugar

1/3 cup coconut nectar*

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1/2 cup almond milk with 1 tsp cider vinegar (to create a 'butter'milk)

1/2 cup vegetable oil

* Can be found in the health section of your supermarket

1. Prehead the oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, combine the first seven ingredients and stir until evenly combined.

2. In a medium bowl, combine the remaining ingredients and whisk vigorously together. The flaxmeal may become slightly frothy and simulate an egg white--this is what you want!

3. Add the wet mixture to the dry ingredients and fold in gently until all of the flour is incorporated and you have a smooth batter. Grease a loaf pan and pour the batter in, smoothing out the top to create an even layer.

4. Bake for about 50-60 minutes, or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean. Allow to cool briefly before serving.



Making Scents.

Scent is a powerful memory-maker. I, along with most people with a working nose, have very strong memories tied to certain fragrances. You're with me, right?

The smell of the warm, balmy air when you step off the plane in Florida. The scent of your boyfriend's cologne. The old-fashioned smell that lingers in Grandma's house. They all get registered in the filing cabinets of our brain, whether we realize it or not.

Food smells, in particular, can range from poignant to exciting to nostalgic. Onion and garlic sweating in a pot will always remind me of a family dinner, just as a coconut will call to mind a pool-side cocktail during vacation. Do you remember your first food memory?

Really think about this.

I'm not talking about the first 'Aha!" moment you had at a fancy-shmance restaurant or the first time you tried an exotic ingredient, but the first memory you have tied to any food, whatsoever. It's kind of crazy to reach back into those dusty files, isn't it? Mine is an absolute shame-fest, but I'll tell you anyway.

It was summer break and I think I was about six or seven years old. We had a small backyard and would set up a garden hose sprinkler to run through all day. Good times. My mom was a serial tanner back then (nothing's changed, except maybe now she's added a few SPFs to her tanning lotion), so we all had little chairs to lounge in. I remember going into the house for a snack, and when I opened the pantry I knew exactly what I wanted--no, needed. Rainbow Chips Ahoy.

You know what I'm talkin' about. And I didn't want one or two. I wanted five, FIVE!, cookies to take back to my chair. A little primary-colored stack that I would slowly nibble to make last as long as possible. I think that was the first time I fell in love. Oh, how the warning signs were there.

I said that to say this:
I recently finished and eye-opening book, Eating Animals, by Jonathan Safran Foer. In it, the author grapples with his decision to remove meat and dairy products from his and his child's diet. As he thinks and rethinks his choice, he's reminded of family barbeques and what rituals would be missed without the grilled burger or holiday roast. Then he realizes that it's not the burger itself that will be missed, but the tradition and memories that accompany it.

We all have memories we hold dear--some healthy and some otherwise--but, we also have a future that belongs to us for all of the new memories we create for ourselves and loved ones.

Cheers to that. You're remembered fondly, Mr. Nabisco, even if we have grown apart.