Sour Cream Banana Bread

Father's Day is coming and I've been thinking about the fathers in my life again. Daddy. Earl. Michael. Three men, three different kinds of fatherhood, three absences that I carry like weights in my pockets.

But this year I'm also thinking about the fathers who are here. Earl Jr. — a good father, a steady one, calling his mother every week and raising a daughter who says "Gah-gah" like it's the most important word she knows. Darnell — quiet Darnell, who called on Mother's Day, who will be a father someday and will be a good one because good fathering skips sometimes but it doesn't disappear. Devon — not a father yet, but a man who pulls out chairs and brings flowers and eats three helpings, which are the qualifications for fatherhood in my family.

I cooked Earl's Father's Day dinner again. Buttermilk fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. Banana pudding. The ritual. I set his plate. I said, "Happy Father's Day, Earl." I ate my portion and I wrapped his and I will take it to Bonaventure this weekend — the cemetery is open again, limited hours, and I will sit on his bench and leave the food for the squirrels and tell the squirrels they're eating better than they deserve.

Kayla sent me a text: "Happy Father's Day to the woman who was both." I read it three times. The woman who was both. Grandmother and grandfather. Mother and father. Cook and carpenter. All the roles, filled by one person, because that's what happens when the people who were supposed to fill them die too soon. You become everything. You become the whole table.

I am the whole table, baby. And the table is still standing.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Banana pudding is Earl’s dish — always has been, always will be — and I don’t share that recipe lightly. But bananas themselves belong to everybody, and when I come home from Bonaventure on a Saturday afternoon with quiet hands and a full heart, what I want to do is bake something. This sour cream banana bread is what I reach for: dense and tender and a little tangy, the kind of loaf that fills a kitchen with a smell that makes people wander in from other rooms. I make it for Devon, who eats three helpings of everything. I make it for Darnell, who calls. I make it for the whole table — the one that’s still standing.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 60 min | Total Time: 1 hr 15 min | Servings: 10 slices

Ingredients

3 very ripe bananas, mashed (about 1 1/4 cups)
1/2 cup sour cream
1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan with butter or non-stick spray and set aside.
Mash the bananas. In a large bowl, mash the ripe bananas until smooth with just a few small lumps remaining. The riper the bananas, the sweeter and more flavorful your bread will be.
Mix the wet ingredients. Whisk the melted butter, sour cream, sugar, eggs, and vanilla extract into the mashed bananas until well combined and smooth.
Combine the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon.
Fold together. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and fold gently with a rubber spatula until just combined — do not overmix. A few streaks of flour are fine. Fold in the nuts now if using.
Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and smooth the top. Bake for 55—65 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. If the top begins to brown too quickly, tent loosely with foil after 40 minutes.
Cool before slicing. Let the bread rest in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Allow to cool at least 20 minutes before slicing so it holds together cleanly.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sour Cream Banana Bread — Because the Banana Pudding Is Never Just About Pudding