Banana

How delicious is a banana cake with coconut frosting? Can you say, “Beat me down, this is so good”? This recipe is all about the bananas, so try and find the very-well-ripened bananas. They are sweeter and softer, and definitely add more banana taste to the cake. Of course, the real star of this cake is the coconut frosting. Once they eat this dessert, your family and guests will have found the golden egg, and you just might get a standing ovation. Happy Easter!

Banana pudding is such a Southern classic that I knew I had to include a recipe for it. At the same time, I wanted to give it a bit of a modern twist, and that’s how I came up with Banana Pudding Sliders. You have to learn the rules before you can break them, so here’s my favorite recipe for classic banana pudding—spiked with rum, layered with bananas and vanilla wafers, and crowned with meringue—followed by those sliders I dreamed up.

Surely, this moist, pecan- and fruit-flecked cake must get its name from the sugary nectar upon which fluttering hummingbirds lunch. This namesake sweet is at least as popular among the birds’ Southern human counterparts. Indeed, it is Southern Living’s all-time most requested recipe. This is my adaptation of the magazine’s classic version.

These seem to cry, “Brunch! Brunch!” Take the time to make someone special a Sunday morning treat with a big cup of café au lait, and you won’t regret it. These fritters, a take on beignets, the French Quarter’s most famous doughnut, are a snap to make.

Next to ice cream (which I consider its own food group), pies are my favorite dessert. This one is an adult version of banana cream pie, with real scotch in the butterscotch (use a blended scotch whiskey, not a single malt). The amount of gelatin is just enough to set the filling, without making it rubbery. For the best texture, be sure to let the pie chill at least 3 hours before serving.

I developed this recipe—in very small increments—for a newspaper article celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the Easy-Bake Oven. My first impulse was to create something very sophisticated, but then I thought I’d appeal to the kid in everyone with bananas, chocolate, and peanut butter. I have since used this cake recipe with a strawberry-cream cheese icing, with great success. And yes, I did have an Easy-Bake Oven when I was a kid!

In this Cambodian treat (that is also a favorite in Vietnam), bananas are covered with coconut-infused sticky rice, wrapped in banana leaf, and grilled.

The Vietnamese adore bananas, arguably the country’s national fruit. Many kinds—small, large, stubby, sweet, starchy—are available, and people know the seasonal and regional differences. A giant herb related to lilies and orchids, the entire banana plant (leaves, fruits, blossoms, trunk, and roots) is used in cooking. In Vietnam, my mother regularly bought a full bunch (about a hundred fruits) from a vendor. After we arrived in America, bananas continued to be one of our favorite fruits, but we ate fewer of them since they are costlier here. Whenever we had overripe bananas, we made this easy and delicious cake, which is among the most popular sweet banh preparations. Thin banana slices decorate the slightly caramelized top, and the cake itself has a puddinglike texture because of the large number of bananas in the batter. For the best flavor, use fragrant, extremely ripe fruit with deep yellow skin marked with lots of brown spots.

If you have never tried a Vietnamese che (sweet soup), this one is a good place to start. The perfume of the banana comes through wonderfully, and the tapioca pearls, enrobed in coconut milk, cook up to resemble large orbs of clear caviar. Once the tapioca pearls have fully expanded and set, the texture of this mildly sweet treat is like that of a thick Western-style tapioca pudding. Small, creamy bananas, such as the Nino variety, also known as Finger or Baby, are traditionally simmered for this sweet soup. They are sold at Asian and Latin markets. If they are unavailable, substitute regular bananas. Regardless of the variety, use ripe but firm, blemish-free fruits.

The classic dessert bananas Foster was created in 1951 by Paul Blangé in New Orleans, Louisiana. It was named for Richard Foster, a friend of Owen Brennan’s who was then the city’s Crime Commission chairman. If you have been fortunate enough to visit New Orleans and eat at Brennan’s, then you know what an incredible dessert bananas Foster is. Sautéed in a buttery, cinnamony caramel sauce and flambéed with dark rum and banana liqueur, bananas are then poured over creamy, rich vanilla ice cream. On the brunch menu at Bar Americain, I take all those yummy components, replacing the ice cream with a slightly tangy crème fraîche whipped cream, and pair them with delicate crêpes. These crêpes are served as an entrée and not a dessert. I can’t think of a better way to start off my weekend.

My old friend David Garrido, a supremely talented chef, came up with a fresh take on mole that combines guajillo chiles with fresh basil, bananas, and dates to create a lively, fruit-sweetened sauce that marries beautifully with chicken. I love this dish for a relaxed but elegant dinner party at home. Skinny bi***es take note: the dish contains little fat, lots of flavor.

I placed this dish in the dessert chapter, but it’s so filling it might be best thought of as a brunch dish, or perhaps dessert-for-dinner. Adding sweetened bread crumbs to the preparation makes a French toast with extra crunch and a dark exterior, a nice contrast to the light, moist interior. I’ve turned the French custard toward the tropics by using coconut milk, and taken the topping to New Orleans with the classic combination of bananas, butter, rum, and pecans. Any other seasonal fruit can work: sliced apples or peaches sautéed in butter, fresh berries, or, when the fruit bowl is empty, your favorite jam.

Is it a gimmick, or is it a serious cooking technique? Is it both? Who cares? Preparing and serving chocolate fondue in a bowl of primordial pink salt is easier, makes a snazzier presentation, and tastes better than conventionally prepared chocolate fondue. Salt bowls, which weigh in excess of six pounds, provide phenomenal thermal stability. This makes it very difficult to overheat the bowl and burn the chocolate. Once heated to the desired temperature, the salt bowl stays warm, keeping the fondue beautifully liquid during its fleeting existence before it’s gobbled up. And the salt. Because salt isn’t soluble in fat, the chocolate itself just luxuriates in the bowl, doing nothing. It’s the touch of heavy cream that transmits a kiss of salt to the fondue’s liquid body. Try cherry, orange, or traditional Angostura-style bitters to vary the flavors

Whereas my second son was born without a volume control dial, my first son was born without an equalizer. The little one bellows and howls at the ceiling, pounds and slams on the floor. The big one rolls his eyes, giggles, and plays mind games, then lavishes you with smiles. Not surprisingly, their loves and fears and wants are nearly opposite, though not in the way you might expect. The big one, when he isn’t politicking, just wants to create elaborate dioramas of war and space travel. The little one, when he isn’t fighting, just wants to climb into your lap for a cuddle. The younger one loves to cook, the elder is a formidable epicurean. They are made from completely different machinery, as if one was crafted by a Swiss watchmaker, the other by a Tasmanian shaman. But they both love flambéed bananas with smoked salt. Cyprus hardwood smoked salt lends woody glints of bacon to the dish, while the salt’s unique massive crystals lend a perfect crunch. Either way, the dish has everything. Banana sugars caramelizing in hot butter, bourbon exploding into fire, and a globe of ice cream—the whole thing set into a smoky haze, like a carnival entering a battlefield.