Maple Banana Bread

I once went out with a boy who enjoys food as much as I do, we bonded over plates oozing with burrata cheese, plate brimming with fresh ravioli and pizzas bubbling straight from chimney ovens (if you live in Toronto or plan to visit sometime soon, you ought to go to Gusto and order the Polpette—meatballs on pizza?! Aww yeaaaah). Another added bonus was he had sweet tooth big enough to rival mine: Soma Chocolate, lemon bars, cheesecakes, ice cream, we devoured them all.

Aside from food, we also shared an interest in the digital arts and decided to try our hand at making a baking video. For a week, we exchanged emails sharing the most saliva-inducing videos we found, getting inspiration from other food lovers. I’m unfamiliar with cinematography since I’m used to the control of a camera, so you can imagine my excitement on this project. We chose Heidi’s Lemony Olive Oil Banana Bread which took nearly two hours to make, not because it was difficult, but because we were having so much fun.

When I bake, I move swiftly along, my Ipod is playing and my toes tap in rhythm to the wooden spoon beating against the metal bowl, there’s minimal flour spill and by the time the cake pan slides into the oven, the dirty spatulas and measuring spoons are soaking quietly in a soapy bowl. But for this project, we made a mess. As my friend hummed to Bon Iver playing in the background, I surveyed the specks of salt, flour, sugar, and baking soda littered on the black table plus excess olive oil that sat in a glass jar, marking our unsuccessful attempts in catching drool-worthy footage. There were spoons upon spoons splayed out, a teetering tower of dishes to be washed, and best of all, there was the cake in the oven. 

As we ran hot water to clean up the mess and the familiar waft of warm, sweet bananas perfumed the kitchen, a sense of ease passed through me. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to do this everyday, the ordinary washing of dirty dishes, the way he tickled me, how I squealed like a little girl, and how he redeemed himself by wrapping his arms around me.

Yet the cake wasn't as spectacular as I hoped, I was greedy with the chocolate chunks and the banana bread ended up being far too sweet. Still, my friend gobbled up two slices in less than five minutes and declared it delicious. We split up the cake, I gathered my baking tools and headed home.

Then something happened since that banana bread, I can’t quite put my finger on it, but my gut knew that perhaps this boy didn’t want to have any more banana-bread-movie-making days. I never blogged about that recipe because I had originally intended to give you the video, I guess you have to accept that sometimes your expectations won't be met. However, one thing you can do is bake when the craving strikes. I was fumbling through food blogs and found this Maple Banana Bread, a no-fuss recipe, the batter comes together easily and turns out incredibly moist. There’s no chocolate, no walnuts and I skipped the frosting because I prefer my cakes uncomplicated. I brought this to work the next day, welcomed by cheers from my coworkers, something I can definitely expect every time.

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Recipe here!

Banana Bread with Chocolate and Crystallized Ginger

One of my favorite things about baking isn't the methodical measuring and mixing of ingredients, nor is it the pouring of thick, glossy batter into a greased pan, but the sharing of the goods. As I wrap them in foil to give away to friends, I imagine how their lips turn upwards into a smile, how their eyes flash with excitement, how some people unfurl the cookie wrapping and without missing a beat, stuff it into their mouths, complimenting me mid-crunch, followed by a cascade of crumbs.

My mom falls in the latter category. If I made cake, she will declare it the best thing she ever ate, without even biting into it. She will wield her fork not at one slice, but at two slices of cake, demanding a glass of milk to wash it down.


With equal authority, mom will push me to make banana bread. There's always a familiar pattern, beginning with her incessant scolding. First goes: Eat the bananas! They're going bad! Then: why aren't you eating them? Are you saving them for something else? And finally: For goodness sakes, the bananas are moldy, make banana bread now!

And I thought I was impatient. Sometimes I wonder if my mom intentionally buys a superfluous amount of bananas.

I've discovered a new banana bread recipe, though not really “new” per se, as I've dog-earred Molly's recipe for years now and just baked it last week. But I hope you agree that you can never be short of banana bread recipes in your arsenal.


This stands out from other banana breads in its addition of ginger. Crystallized ginger. Chopped bits of the spicy root popping in each bite, its sharpness mellowed by bittersweet chocolate.

I replaced some of the all-purpose flour with whole-wheat flour, favoring it's nuttiness and to trick myself into believing it would be more wholesome. Oh baby, was this banana bread good. My mom had two generous pieces in one sitting. I've been eating it everyday, in fact, I just had it as a post-lunch snack.


I urge you, with a little less anger than my mom used, to go use up that pile of freckled and mushy fruit, still conjoined by their wrinkly stem, its funk permeating all corners of the kitchen. Overripe bananas begged to be married with chocolate and ginger, and promptly introduced to your friends.

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Recipe here!

Berry Berry Yogurt Pops

I once threw a fit (that's an understatement, it was equivalent to a tornado) because I couldn’t buy a blender. Really. True story. For months, I had been saving money to buy my first kitchen appliance. I went to bed thinking of creamy milkshakes, fruit juices, and icy cold smoothies, anything to beat the sticky summers in Shanghai.

My parents and I made plans to buy a Philips standing blender after our lunch on a weekend. I had safely tucked away my cash in my wallet, too excited to eat, I was bouncing off the walls, chirping, “Is it time yet? Can we go now?” Much to my chagrin, when we arrived at the house ware floor of the department store, the price for the blender had shot up. I didn't have enough money to buy it anymore. I was devastated. I went home sulking, banged the door shut, screamed into my pillow, yanked my blanket to the floor and cried in a corner (I don't think I even cried that hard about a Barbie. I mean, it was this just a blender). I suppose I'm a wee bit spoiled.


Weeks later, I had finally saved enough and bought the blender. I hugged it all the way home, admiring its mint green tint and the stand with a cantaloupe-colored dial for three speeds. There was also a small button for quick clean and an inner tube to stick in the middle of the blender for separating seeds. It was beautiful.

Immediately, I plugged the white cord into a socket, dolloped big scoops of vanilla ice cream into the blender, followed by chunks of banana and a dash of milk to make a milkshake. I concocted tall glasses of strawberry smoothies with ice and lounged on the couch with a book. Another time, I attempted to make kiwi juice, but it was grotesque, the blender contents turned a murky green color and I didn't separate the seeds, so the texture became grainy. The idea of making something from just the press of a button, how I could change and adjust the flavors and textures with just a few ingredients was incredibly fun for me. This blender became my best friend.

For Christmas last year, my parents bought me a small blender, knowing that I loved kitchen appliances (thankfully there were only cries of joy this time). It's similar to the magic bullet, but it goes by a different name, The Rocket. I didn't touch it much over the winter, I'd rather sip on tea and coffee to keep me warm. But recently, I've been blending smoothies every weekend to change up my breakfast routine.

So...I was going to tell you about a berry banana smoothie. Then I made these and thought who wants smoothies when you got popsicles?


Here are some berry berry yogurt pops, the perfect remedy to a heat wave. I didn’t follow a recipe, but went by instinct. I impatiently waited for them to freeze. I twiddled my thumbs. I oogled at food blogs from around the world. I ate some chocolate. Finally, hours later, I sunk my teeth into the frozen berry puree, but then the tartness of yogurt hit me--I forgot to add sugar to the yogurt. I adjusted the recipe and included sugar to even out the flavors and phew! it makes a huge difference.

I love the rosy pink color of blended raspberries. It's subtly sweet and you can play with other fruit too (melon or mangoes would be yummy). I’m looking forward to experimenting with other flavour combinations, like strawberry basil, or peach and ginger. Or even better, why not do as Matt Bittman suggests: cocktails on a stick?


There's really nothing better than cooling down in the sweltering heat with a few icy popsicles. Share this with your friends and I can promise you there won't be any tandrums.

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Recipe here!

Aunt Holly's Banana Bread

What do you do with freckled bananas? With fruit is so ripe, the skin is just peeling off by itself? When their funk is so strong it’s attracting houseflies? When it gets squished and explodes in your lunchbag, rendering it Fruit that Must Stay at Home? By George! You make banana bread.


There's a recipe from Epicurious called Aunt Holly's Banana Bread. Aunt Holly has been a dependable friend in the kitchen for a while, teaching me how to make flawlessly golden loafs. I hear them calling my name hours after cooling--regardless if I’ve already had three warm slices in one sitting.

But lately, Auntie Holly has been giving me issues. Serious issues. Loafs sink in the middle with an audible PLOP! And I can never seem to find the balance between moist and dry. It's time to break up with Aunt Holly.


On the upside, the recipe is infinitely adaptable to additions. I have no qualms in adding chocolate chunks, roasted coconut, walnuts, a large swirl of peanut butter, or maybe an entire Mars bars as my friend urges me to do.


It's an easy baking procedure. None of that “mix dry ingredients first, mix liquid ingredients, beat together...” inducing a heart attack when my mixing bowl isn't big enough to contain the precious batter. Nah, Aunt Holly is easy going. She urges you to first mash up your smelly bananas, dump in all the other ingredients, mix well, throw everything into a loaf pan and bake for about one hour.


So put that pile of ripened fruit to good use and try this recipe. It's a breeze (meanwhile, Aunt Holly can stay).

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Recipe here!