The Humble Loaf

Female food bloggers seem to be obsessed with banana bread. Molly Wizenberg of Orangette has more than four recipes on her blog, and then another woman at Obsessed With Baking (where I found the recipe) has run various tests on various recipes, complete with commentary and photos revealing the differences between using melted butter and unmelted. What is it about this humble loaf that keeps us coming back time and time again for more?

I don't want to go into a gender related discourse about why women seem to be jumping up and down slightly higher than the men are in celebration of this little delicacy, because I know men who make fantastic banana bread, cake, muffins and more (ie. My Dad!), but this is the observation I made while scouring the Internet for the Silver Palate Banana Bread recipe. Truth is, banana bread is extremely versatile. She can serve as a light dessert, when enriched with butter and sugar; she can dress down to a hearty whole wheat for breakfast or a snack; she can elegantly wear chocolate chips, nuts, coconut, and candied ginger, to name a few, or a thick coat of cream cheese frosting when she wants to get fancy.

I really love banana bread, just ask Fabienne, my tree-planting accomplice of four years. I loved this bread before going tree-planting, but after her loyal accompaniment (that of Fab's and the bread's) through all those years of slogging through mud and up and down hills, the bond is bound. Not to mention the fact that Fab had to witness and listen to my countless updates on how the banana bread was, or how much I'd eaten, or how much I just wanted a slice. In the morning I'd wake up groaning, sore, cold, uncomfortable, but would faithfully get dressed, pull on my boots, and walk to the mess tent where a delicious loaf of banana bread, a cup of coffee and Fab, full of life and stories, were waiting for me. Not a bad life I'd say. In fact, it's those mornings I miss the most.


This morning, I woke up to find the first snow dusting across the city. I kinda squealed with fright and excitement: I'm going to have to shovel my steps for the first time in my life! Oh Montreal, you and your seasons; I love you so much for it. But the real excitement came at breakfast. Last night I baked, for the second time this week, the perfect loaf of banana bread. Toasted, buttered, paired with fluffy scrambled eggs and a mug of tea, she's the perfect morning companion for reading the paper, or the new cookbook Ros gave me The Best International Recipe Cookbook, which is real winner by the way and a great introduction to cooking from around the world.

So without further ado, here she is:

Banana Bread

as adapted from the Silver Palate

I reduced the amount of butter to 1/4 c and the sugar to 1/2 C. I also added 1/2 C of coconut, and this time, 1/2 C of chocolate chips. She has a moist, tight crumb, and enough sweetness to satisfy; a nice mix between a hearty loaf and a cakey one. This means that I can eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner and only feel a little off after the 6th slice. Not bad if you ask me. It's very easy to make, without needing lots of special ingredients.

1/4 C butter (room temperature or melted)
1/2 C sugar
2 eggs
3 large ripe bananas
1 tsp vanilla
1 C whole wheat flour
1 C white flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 C unsweetened coconut
1/2 C chocolate chips or walnuts

- Preheat the oven to 350 F.
- Grease a 9X5X3 loaf pan.
- If using room temperature butter, cream together with sugar. If using melted butter, mix together with sugar.
- Add eggs and vanilla.
- Mash up the bananas in a separate bowl using a fork or a potato masher and add to butter and sugar mixture.
- In a separate bowl whisk together all the dry ingredients except the chocolate chips.
- Add the dry ingredients to the wet gradually, stirring the batter as you add the flour.
- Before the dough is completely blended, add the chocolate chips. This way you'll avoid over mixing the dough.
- When the dough has just come together, it's alright if some streaks of flour are still present, pour the batter into the loaf pan.
- The baking time may vary. I have a really thick, dark, non-stick loaf pan that cooks the loaf quite a bit faster than a regular aluminum one would. So my loaf takes about 45 minutes. However, the suggested baking time is for 1 hour. To avoid over or under cooking, check the loaf after 40 minutes. Push lightly on the top and if it springs back quickly under your finger there's a good chance she's almost done. Test further by inserting a clean sharp knife into the center. It should come out clean. Other indications of doneness are, a well-browned top and when the sides of the loaf start to come away from the sides of the pan.

- Don't forget, this recipe could easily be used for muffins. I imagine it'd make from 6-8 muffins made in regular sized muffin tins. But don't forget to reduce the cooking time to about 25 minutes, same temperature.

- murph

An Old Favourite: Chicken Marbella

Today it snowed. Not a lot mind you, but enough to remind us that he is indeed still coming. However, I plan to welcome Sir Winter with wide open arms. Thanks to my incredibly stimulating retail job at the outdoors store, I have outfitted myself for 75 % off and will have little to complain about when those glacial winds come tearing across the city. Plus, I'm going to perfect my skating technique, buy a stick and become an expert hockey player. Nothing better than roaring across the ice on skates!

This fall I have become obsessed with the art of cooking chicken. It's a terrific sort of meat, one that can be used for a multitude of delicious recipes, from roasted and salt-rubbed with herbs, to one elegantly stuffed with chestnuts, mushrooms, thyme and cream, and to a rich broth made from the bones: the essential base for a killer winter soup. The rents cooked too many roast chickens with potatoes while we were growing up, and my sister Katherine developed a violent aversion to the bird. But now she appears to be coming round. Why would they torture us like that? It's damn easy, super satisfying, and a sure way to always have a good source of protein around for a couple of days, not to mention the reliable cup of soup stock in the freezer, ready to pour into thick gravies or to braise winter greens with.

Chicken Marbella was our go-to recipe from the Silver Palate Cookbook and probably a saving grace for my parents as they balanced symphony concerts with the chaos of two little girls at home. Originally a deli and food store that opened up on Manhattan's Upper West Side, the Silver Palate wanted to facilitate good eats and people who didn't have time to cook themselves. It has since become a cook book and one that I have spent many a breakfast reading. However, beware, the revised editions aren't quite the same. Our "need" for "healthier" dishes resulted in the reduction of cream and butter in many of the recipes. But, older editions are still available and the carrot and banana cakes are to-die-for. There are also great meal ideas, a terrific brunch section and quotes from Alice in Wonderland.

I've been wanting to cook this dish for a long time and finally searched the recipe on the Internet (a clearly well-loved recipe by everyone), bought myself a whole chicken, bought the olives, prunes, and capers, (the rest of the ingredients were in the cupboard) and set to work. I did not plan to have company and although this never deters me from making things, it's kind of hilarious to find myself alone at the table grinning, chewing, tasting, lip-smacking, swinging my legs and laughing about how DELICIOUS my meal is. So, I jumped at the chance to invite two friends I have hardly seen over the last five years. Both people I know from my first year at McGill, they appeared back in Montreal around the same time, and I must say, it's terrific to have become reacquainted with such fine folks.

Chicken Marbella
As adapted from our loyal cooks at the Silver Palate

Most recipes for chicken require a slightly longer cooking time than is required. This can be avoided by checking the chicken after 40-45 minutes of cooking. The chicken is done when an instant read thermometer is inserted into the thigh and reads 165 deg F. Or, what I usually do is pierce the thigh and then push on the meat to release the juices: if they run clear, you're ready to go. And then due to some (small) level of paranoia, I usually cut into the breast to make sure she's not drying out or too pink. I find people shy away from cooking meat because they don't know how to. But there are simple guidelines to follow and once known, they relieve a lot of the pressure. I suggest you put on some John Lennon, in particular the album Walls and Bridges (which I've been head-bopping around to for the past 24 hours) and do a little of this and a little of that, keep your head about you, and love that chicken to a delectably, eatable state.

1 1.5 kg chicken
one huge clove of garlic, or a couple smaller ones
1 TBS dried oregano
coarse salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
1/8 C red wine vinegar
1/8 C olive oil
a generous handful of prunes
a generous handful of pitted green olives
1/8 C capers with a bit of juice
2 bay leaves
1/4 C brown sugar
1/4 C white wine (or red)
1 TBS fresh parsely

- Cut up the chicken
- Place in a large 9 X 12 baking dish
- In a separate bowl, mix together the garlic, oregano, salt, pepper, red wine vinegar, olive oil, prunes, olives capers and bay leaves. Mix well and pour over the chicken. Cover and refridgerate.
- An hour before you want to eat, preheat the oven to 350 F and sprinkle the chicken with the sugar, add the wine and fresh parsely. Uncover the chicken and slide the pan into the oven.
- Baste frequently throughout the cooking (every fifteen minutes or so). I did this by turning the chicken with tongs. I am NOT YET the proud owner of pastry brushes. Some day, some day.

* If you take the chicken out a couple hours before you cook it, it will warm up to room temperature and cook faster.
* I cooked my chicken for about 45-50 minutes in total.

And then someone said, these are the best prunes I've ever tasted.... They really were very good.

-murph