By The house closing is postponed indefinitely. "Indefinitely" is the word the bank used. Not "canceled." Not "rescheduled." Indefinitely. The word hangs in the air like a recipe without measurements — you know what it means but you don't know how long or how much or when. Derek took the news with the calm that is his superpower and that occasionally drives me insane. He said, "The house will be there when this is over." I said, "WHEN is it over?" He said, "When it's over." Sometimes his calm is wisdom. Sometimes his calm is infuriating. Today it was both.
The townhouse is too small. I said this already. I will say it every week because it is true every week. Six people share one bathroom in the morning and the logistics require a spreadsheet that Derek actually made — a shower schedule posted on the bathroom door with time slots in fifteen-minute increments. Marcus takes twenty-minute showers. The schedule does not accommodate Marcus's showers. Marcus does not care. The daily negotiation of hot water is the most intimate form of conflict resolution I have ever experienced, including my divorce.
Made banana bread. Three loaves. Because the bananas were brown and the children were restless and flour is still available at the store (barely) and banana bread is the universal lockdown recipe, the thing every person in America is making right now, and I am not above trends. My banana bread is Mama's recipe — extra cinnamon, a splash of vanilla, walnuts. The three loaves lasted two days. Two days. Six people ate three loaves of banana bread in forty-eight hours. The math of feeding teenagers during a lockdown is: make more. Always make more.
Three loaves in two days. I’m not even embarrassed anymore — I’m just strategic. The brown bananas don’t stop coming, and the six people in this too-small townhouse don’t stop eating, so when I found myself staring down another bunch of spotty bananas the morning after the house closing news, I made Banana French Toast instead. It felt like the right move: same bananas, same comfort, same Mama energy — but different enough to feel like I had adapted rather than just repeated myself. Derek nodded when I set the plate down. That’s basically a standing ovation from Derek.
Banana French Toast
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 ripe bananas, mashed
- 3 large eggs
- 1/2 cup milk
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
- 8 slices thick-cut bread (brioche or Texas toast recommended)
- 2 tablespoons butter, divided
- Pinch of salt
- Maple syrup and powdered sugar, for serving
Instructions
- Make the custard. In a wide, shallow bowl, whisk together the mashed bananas, eggs, milk, vanilla extract, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt until smooth and well combined. The mixture will be slightly thick from the banana — that’s what you want.
- Heat the pan. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in a large skillet or griddle over medium heat. Let it foam and subside before adding bread.
- Soak the bread. Dip each slice of bread into the banana custard, letting it soak for 20–30 seconds per side. Don’t rush this — you want the custard to penetrate the bread, not just coat it.
- Cook in batches. Add soaked slices to the skillet in a single layer. Cook for 3–4 minutes per side until deep golden brown and cooked through. Add remaining butter as needed between batches.
- Serve warm. Plate the French toast and dust with powdered sugar. Serve immediately with maple syrup. For a crowd, keep finished slices in a 200°F oven on a baking sheet while you finish the remaining batches.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg