By Patricia's daughter Alexis has decided to become a travel nurse. The pandemic showed her what nursing could be — Kayla's example, the frontline stories, the way nurses became the last faces some people ever saw — and Alexis decided she wanted to be that face in places that need it most. She's twenty-three, brave, restless in the way that young people should be restless, and she's getting her license and signing with a travel nursing agency.
I told Alexis I was proud. Then I told her to eat vegetables. She said, "I eat vegetables, Granny." I said, "Smoothies don't count." She said, "They literally do." I said, "Alexis, a vegetable should be on a plate, cooked with intention, eaten with a fork. A smoothie is a vegetable in disguise, and I don't trust food that wears a costume." She laughed. I wasn't joking. But I was also proud. So proud. Another Henderson woman going into the world to take care of people. Kayla at Memorial. Alexis wherever the wind takes her. Michael's daughter and Patricia's daughter, both choosing to heal.
The cooking class starts next week — first session back at the community center since COVID. Fourteen students again. A waiting list again. I'm nervous and I'm ready. Nervous because a year has passed and I'm older and my hands shake a little more. Ready because the skillet is seasoned and the stories are polished and the shrimp are fresh from Eddie at the dock, who survived the pandemic and is back selling from his usual spot with his usual smile and his usual understanding that I get the good ones.
Made shrimp and grits — practice for the class. The grits were stone-ground. The shrimp curled into Cs. The butter was excessive. Everything was right. I am ready to teach again. I am ready to stand at the front of a room and tell the story of Pearl and the rice and the shrimp and the iron and the love. I am ready.
Now go on and feed somebody.
The shrimp and grits is the lesson, but every good class ends with something to celebrate — and Alexis leaving for her first travel nursing assignment, Eddie back at the dock, fourteen students on a waiting list: that’s worth a flame and a little rum. I’ve been making this Bananas Foster since before Patricia’s children were born, and I plan to close out the final session of class with it, skillet hot, students watching, every one of them understanding for the first time that a banana can become something remarkable if you give it the right heat and the right attention. That’s the whole lesson, really. That’s all of it.
The Best Bananas Foster
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1/4 cup unsalted butter
- 1 cup packed dark brown sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 cup banana liqueur
- 4 ripe bananas, peeled and halved lengthwise
- 1/4 cup dark rum
- 4 scoops vanilla ice cream, for serving
Instructions
- Melt the butter. In a large, heavy skillet over medium heat, melt the butter until it begins to foam. Do not let it brown.
- Build the sauce. Add the brown sugar and cinnamon to the skillet, stirring constantly until the sugar is fully dissolved and the mixture is smooth, about 2–3 minutes.
- Add the liqueur. Pour in the banana liqueur and stir to combine, letting the sauce bubble gently for 1 minute.
- Cook the bananas. Lay the banana halves cut-side down in the sauce. Cook for 1–2 minutes per side, spooning the sauce over them, until softened and glazed but not falling apart.
- Flambé. Remove the skillet from the heat briefly. Add the dark rum, then carefully return to the flame or use a long lighter to ignite. Allow the flame to burn out on its own, about 30 seconds. Keep a lid nearby in case the flame needs to be smothered.
- Serve immediately. Place a scoop of vanilla ice cream in each bowl, lay two banana halves alongside, and spoon the warm sauce generously over the top. Serve at once.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 420 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 70g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 95mg