Thursday, May 31, 2012

The Prodigal Daughter Returns

     Hello, folks!  It is I, returned from a month-long absence of blogging.  In the past few weeks I have:

-failed to land a job
-failed to acquire more interviews
-had some pretty clumsy accidents (sunburn, black eye, etc.)

     However, I have succeeded in:

-weeding and planting the entirety of my vegetable garden
-giving my squeeze a great birthday party
-taking some great shots of my friends' beautiful newborn, Giana
-coming up with other things I want to blog about (all my first times in local restaurants!)

     See, the positives outweigh the negatives!

     In the spirit of summer officially landing its beautiful rump in Southeast Wisconsin, I embarked on making one of my favorite summertime treats: Bananas Foster Bread

     Allow me to preface this; I do not like baking.  I know many people who adore it, some of which really excel at it.  I am not in this group.  Putting me in the kitchen to bake is like inviting a natural disaster into your home.  It's a mess; there's debris everywhere, children are crying--really horrible stuff.  I cannot handle the multi-tasking.  "Where's the 1/4 c. measuring cup . . . I can't find the flour . . . Damnit, I forgot the salt!"  But for the Bananas Foster Bread, I think the ends justify the means.



     Anyway, as I mentioned, my squeeze's birthday was last week, and because we had a whole weekend of bad eating/drinking/playing around planned, our whole bag of bananas from the week's shopping sat untouched.  This was the perfect opportunity to go for banana bread, since I'm pretty sure over-ripe bananas were invented specifically for this purpose.

     One of the things I love best about this recipe from Cooking Light is its "adult twist"--aka, the boozy taste of rum in the bread and the frosting.  It adds that extra layer of flavor among the usual suspects of sweet, salty, banana-y.  Another thing I love, and this is usually to Cooking Light's credit (although, there are sometimes where it's like: "Um, no."), is their incorporation of healthier substitutes to old school recipes.  For example, this recipe calls for milled flaxseed and fat-free yogurt.  I have really no idea what those items take the place of, but they sound healthy, right?  (Sidenote: I've heard that using applesauce or canned pumpkin in place of butter in certain baking items like brownies, is a health-wise tip.)


     

      At this risk of a boring digression, there's something else I'd like to address here.  Do you ever find yourself frustrated when browsing recipes, and there's inconsistencies in ingredient amounts?  You all know I love my Cooking Light, but I do have one critique.  You could be reading two recipes on the exact same page of the magazine, and while one calls for half an onion, diced, the other calls for  1 1/2 c. sliced onion.  I realize that this can be due in part to the recipes having different authors with different styles and different requirements--I just remember being extremely frustrated with this in my earlier cooking days.  Like, can't they just list everything based on the item's size?!  How do I know when I'm at the grocery store if this red pepper is going to yield a full cup's worth or not?! 

     The best way I've come to combat this with is, if you're not baking, take Rachael Ray's advice and "eyeball it."  Seriously, just guess.  In the land of baking, precision is paramount.  If you're stir-frying, making a pizza, grilling a burger--guessing won't ruin your food.  This is something I believe I absorbed from my dad.  He used to say it a lot when I was a kid and worrying about messing stuff up.  And there was Myron with his soothing, "It's ok, Nicole, it doesn't matter."

     Alas, we are baking here.  So let me inform you: when the recipe calls for 1 1/2 c. mashed ripe banana, what they mean is 3-4 bananas.  Like much of cooking, this is something you can only learn from doing.  But, I want to spread the word of Mashed Bananas!  Let me lead you to the accurate amounts!  Go forth and be glad in it. 






Yeah, buddy.