By Tet week proper. The new year arrives Tuesday. The house is cleaned (Tet tradition — sweep out the bad luck of the old year before the new one starts; I let Mai give me the inspection-level checklist and I performed every item including dusting on top of the cabinets, which I have not done in three years). The altar is set up at Mai's — chrysanthemums, the bánh chưng, oranges, candies, incense, photographs of Huy and Mai's parents. The clothes for the first three days of the year are red or yellow (Mai checked my closet and approved a yellow shirt I forgot I owned).
Tet Eve dinner at Mai's. Mai, Linh, Richard, Mei (in from Dallas with Camila), David, me, Lily, James. Nine at the table. The menu: bánh chưng, gà luộc (poached chicken), thịt kho, pickled vegetables, a whole steamed fish, chè (a Vietnamese sweet bean dessert pudding), and Mai's tea. We ate slowly. We talked about the year ahead. Lily and James talked about expanding the restaurant menu. David talked about a project at NASA that he can't fully describe. Mei talked about a case at her Dallas firm. I talked about the Vietnam trip — six weeks and counting. Mai didn't talk much. She listened. She ate her bánh chưng slowly, savoring it, the way a person savors a thing they helped make with their daughter and grand-niece and son and granddaughter.
At midnight Mai gave the tiền lì xì — the red envelopes with money inside, the traditional Tet gifts. She gave one to each of us, even me, even at fifty-one. Mine had two dollars in it. She said, in Vietnamese, "For luck, Bao." I said, "Thank you, Ma." I will keep that two dollars in my wallet next to the chip. The wallet is becoming the museum. The chip, the rub recipe, the two dollars from Mai. Three pieces of paper currency that hold up a life.
Smokey tried to eat the chrysanthemums on the altar. Mai shooed him away with her cane (gently, but with intent). Smokey took the warning seriously. The dog is learning Tet protocols. By next year he will know the altar is off-limits. By the year after that he will be a Tet veteran. Smokey is on his way.
Chè was the last thing we ate that night — slow, sweet, the table already quieting after midnight, red envelopes in everyone’s pockets. I’ve been thinking about that sweetness all week, the way a simple dessert can hold a whole room together at the end of a long, full evening. These nutty bananas aren’t chè, but they carry the same spirit: warm, unhurried, easy enough to make after a feast when you still want something small and good. Mai would approve of anything that takes less than fifteen minutes and ends in something sweet.
Nutty Bananas
Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 8 min | Total Time: 13 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 ripe bananas, peeled and halved lengthwise
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/4 cup chopped roasted peanuts or walnuts
- 1 tablespoon honey
- Pinch of flaky sea salt
- Vanilla ice cream or coconut cream, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Prepare the pan. Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add the butter and let it melt until it begins to foam, about 1 minute.
- Add the sugar and spice. Sprinkle the brown sugar and cinnamon evenly into the pan and stir gently into the butter, letting it begin to bubble and caramelize, about 1–2 minutes.
- Cook the bananas. Place the banana halves cut-side down into the skillet. Cook undisturbed for 2–3 minutes until golden and caramelized on the cut side. Gently flip and cook the other side for 1–2 minutes more.
- Finish with nuts and honey. Remove from heat. Drizzle honey over the bananas and scatter the chopped nuts on top. Add a pinch of flaky sea salt.
- Serve immediately. Plate the banana halves warm, spooning any caramel sauce from the pan over the top. Serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a drizzle of coconut cream if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 33g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 55mg