I’ve been baking banana cake, one to eat at home and one to take on holiday when we go off to Charmouth, for a week walking with a group of old friends – old being the operative word! Banana cake is one of my staples, because whenever I have any bananas which look past their best, I peel them and freeze them to make cake with in future. It only takes a moment to fish them out and zap them in the microwave, ready to make into a cake. It was banana and crystallised ginger today.
Bananas are a great food. I recollect that my sister Leslie fed my niece Katharine almost exclusively on bananas – or so it seemed – as a baby. Katharine wolfed them down and thrived on them. Leslie decided to write to Fyffes, the main banana importers, to let them know that her daughter had eaten a banana every day for a year. She hoped that they might at least send her a bunch or two, or if she was lucky, decide to finance Katharine’s banana habit in the future. She was not so lucky! They did respond, but by sending her a three foot long inflatable banana – not quite what she had been hoping for.
I remember my grandfather telling me a story involving a banana. When he was young, he was a very keen harrier. I am not even sure that term exists any more: I suppose nowadays he would be called a jogger. He used to participate in competitive races over quite long distances before the First World War. My grandfather was entered into a very big race, which he hoped to win – there was a money prize. Somehow, my grandfather had come by a banana – not a common commodity at that time – and set out on the race with it in his pocket. He was running at the front, along with another guy, an equally good runner, whom he couldn’t shake off. Suddenly, my grandfather had a brainwave: he took out his banana, and made as if to peel it. He could see the guy beside him looking at it hungrily. In an apparent show of benevolence, he handed the fellow his banana. His rival was so amazed at his luck that he slowed right down to peel and eat the banana – and my grandfather shot on to victory!
Chelsea, who featured in yesterday’s blog post, tells me that every meal and snack on Kilimanjaro seems to involve bananas and all food ends up tasting like them. I guess they are provided on the basis that they are a good source of energy – not that they will cause one to “lose the race” as in my grandfather’s story. Just as well we all like them!
