Going Bananas

I am not a morning person.  Like, at all.  As I stumble out of the shower, it’s all I can do to brush my teeth and deodorize my pits and not the reverse.  So when it comes to breakfast, I need something easy enough for a monkey to manage.

Enter the banana, possibly the most perfect fruit of all.

Earlier today I was caught in a conversation with other people who actually cook.  Like with pans and stuff.  One person made scrambled eggs and chorizo for breakfast.  Another whipped up pumpkin pancakes.  Their breakfasts sounded awesome and I’m sure they tasted great, but I cannot even begin to fathom being coherent enough to operate a stove safely in the morning.  I’m 98.976% sure the smoke detector would be involved.  It’s just a bad idea.

As my friends talked about their breakfasts, I began to feel a bit embarrassed that I’d run out the door and scarfed down a lonely banana in the car.  Even more embarrassed that I do this all the time.

Then this afternoon I read another blog and the topic was what people eat for breakfast.  People posted tales of homemade maple syrup drizzled over French toast, steaming bowls of steel-cut oats with fresh fruit, and waffles hot from the press.  My banana and I were shamed.  Again.

Well, let me tell you, friends, I love bananas.  And it’s not just because they don’t require any cooking, although that is a major plus for those of us who are cooking challenged.

Bananas are a wonderful breakfast food no matter what mode of transport I’m taking.  Walking or driving?  I just crack that baby open and toss the peel in field near my house.  Actually, most days I aim for the field and somehow manage to land it in the bushes lining the front of the field.  Riding my bike?  I shove that yellow treat in my jersey pocket and scarf it down at a stop light.  And then throw the peel in the field.  Or the bushes.  Whatever.

Did you know bananas have three sections each with a distinct flavor?  You didn’t?  Oh that’s right, you have a life.  Anyway, the next time you’re eating a banana and nobody else is around, press your tongue down on the tip of a banana.  It will split into thirds and each third has a unique flavor.  One section is sweeter, one section is more bitter, etc.  It’s true.  Here’s another fun fact.  The scientific name for a bunch of bananas is a “hand” and each fruit is called a “finger”.  Cool, right?  No?  Oh well.

The point is, the next time I’m trapped in a conversation about breakfast masterpieces, I’m going to tout the simple beauty of the banana.

Or maybe I’ll just get a life.

4 thoughts on “Going Bananas”

  1. Okay, I do know about the banana having three parts, but didn’t know they tasted different. I am so picky about my bananas. No, I mean NO green bananas ever cross my lips. Guacala! They have to have a few black spots, but not too many. Just exactly ripe. Here is my banana secret: I am grossed out by the strings. Like fingernails on a blackboard. I can touch them to throw them away, if I have to. But if one gets in my mouth I can barely stand it long enough to spit the whole thing out. I wasn’t always like this. I’d think we’d become more tolerant of foods as we age, but the reverse is true for me with bananas.
    Lynn

    (P.S. My favorite breakfast is cooked: scrambled eggs with a little lite Jarlsberg cheese, wrapped in a toasted-almost-burned-corn tortilla, topped with avocado and Rooster sauce. (Bottled hot sauce.) I can eat this every day, and I usually do.)

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    1. Lynn, my banana was a touch on the green side today. Not quite ripe enough. Incidentally, the strings that go up and down the length of bananas are called Phloem Bundles. They help distribute nutrients to every part of the growing bananas, but even their name sounds gross. My gag reflex goes into overdrive if I accidentally get one in my mouth. My throat is tightening even writing about it. Blecchhh!!!

      Your breakfast scramble sounds delish. I think I’ll try making it Saturday morning when I have hours to make the move from asleep to awake. It’s also the day I have hours to scrape burned bits from the pan and enough time to wave the broom around at the smoke detector.

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  2. Oh gross. Phloem bundles? Shudder. That really is a nasty name. Sounds like, well, I won’t say what it sounds like. That would be too much imagery. Enough!

    My breakfast scramble is pretty yummy. Burning the tortillas could send your smoke detector into overdrive, but if you don’t overdo it you should be fine.

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