Obviously I have a banana thing going on here.
Mostly, I buy too many bananas.
And when you buy too many bananas, you end up with brown bananas.
And then you have to find things to do with bananas.
And sometimes you need to switch it up.
So we’ve gone there, a few times, you and me.
And we’re going again.
With this cake.
Because, you know.
Too many bananas.
My sister and I had a mini-debate one morning, about whether it’s better to have a little sweet treat in the morning or later in the day.
She was a morning proponent, I was a later in the day proponent.
Let me just tell you – this cake refuses to abide by time regulations.
It pretty much has a voice and says things to you like, “Oh, I would be sooo good with your morning coffee,” and “Just have a little bite as you walk through the kitchen,” and “I’m made with bananas and whole wheat flour, for cripes sake – take two bites, and just park your fork right here on the cake plate for when you come back in five minutes. Why dirty more dishes??”
And you’ll realize, that unless you get it out of the house, you are going to be sneaking bites all day long, rationalizing that it’s just as easy to walk through the kitchen as it is to go through the living room, that laundry would be so much more peaceful if you had a slice as you folded, that what would really feel relaxing is to sit and read and have tea and banana cake, and that you’ve been eating so healthy lately, that what’s a little banana cake between friends – and by friends, I mean you and the couch.
So back to the debate. My in-depth studies have demonstrated this:
A piece of this cake in the morning will hurtle you down a wicked spiral all day long. The spiral may or may not be limited to banana cake.
But say you’ve been avoiding grains and sugar, and then you indulge in a modest square of Caramel Frosted Banana Walnut Cake.
All of a sudden you’re eating Goldfish Crackers and pre-packaged cookies for lunch and following it up with a late afternoon snack of french fries and coffee.
But it happens.
But let us not condemn the cake.
It is, in fact, an amazing little confection.
A single layer of walnut-studded banana goodness, topped with approximately a half-inch layer of rich caramel frosting.
In my personal opinion, the frosting to cake ratio is perfection. If you’re not a frosting person, then I would venture to say . . .
don’t be stupid it’s probably not then, I guess. (But really??)
My advice would be:
Make this cake.
And carefully divide it into portions for friends to whom you can hand it off immediately.
Then they can do things like text you from their car moments after you’ve given it to them and tell you that they are eating it as they sit in the parking lot, sans fork, and oh – they hope they weren’t supposed to take any home to their family because, well – it’s gone.
It’s ok, friend. That was for you and only you. And sometimes I don’t use a fork either. I just face-plant in the cake plate and start chewing.