Vegan Banana Bread

The fourth anniversary is three weeks away and I have been noticing that the accumulation of years does not make the approach less significant — it just makes it more familiar. I know what the week before feels like now. I know the particular way April seventh and eighth and ninth feel, the way time slows down in those days. Knowledge does not prevent the weight. It just means you walk toward it with your eyes open instead of walking into it.

New Hope AME is doing a Holy Week series this year that starts at the end of March and runs through Easter, and Pastor Hendricks asked me to be part of the Wednesday evening service. He wants me to talk about cooking and grief, specifically about how the kitchen has held me through loss. I said yes before I thought too carefully about what yes meant, which is my pattern with the important things. The yes comes first and then the preparation follows.

I spent most of this week writing notes. What do I actually believe about the kitchen and grief? I believe the kitchen required me to be present when everything in me wanted to be absent. I believe that the act of chopping an onion or stirring a roux or kneading bread has a power to return you to your own body that is not quite like anything else. I believe food carries memory in a way that bypasses the front door of your mind and comes in through the senses instead. You smell something and you are there again, in that kitchen, at that table, and the person is present in the smell before you've had a chance to brace yourself for them.

I don't know how to stand up in a church and say all this without crying. But I also think crying at a Holy Week service is probably acceptable. I'll make sure to bring a handkerchief. Bernice always had one in her sleeve and I have started doing the same. Some inheritances are very practical.

When I sat with my notes this week and asked myself what recipe belonged beside everything I’d written, banana bread came to mind almost immediately — not because it is complicated, but because it is the opposite of complicated, and that is exactly the point. The mixing, the folding, the moment you press the batter into the pan and slide it into the oven and simply wait — it is the kind of work that asks your hands to stay busy and your mind to go quiet. Bernice used to say that the simplest recipes require the most honesty, and I think she was right. This is the loaf I will probably bake the week of April seventh, because some years the kitchen’s answer to grief is not a feast but a single, warm, unhurried bread.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 10 slices

Ingredients

3 very ripe bananas, mashed (about 1 1/2 cups)
1/3 cup melted coconut oil or neutral vegetable oil
1/2 cup pure maple syrup or granulated sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened plant-based milk (oat, almond, or soy)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or dairy-free chocolate chips (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9×5-inch loaf pan with oil or line it with parchment paper.
Mash the bananas. In a large mixing bowl, mash the ripe bananas thoroughly with a fork until smooth. A few small lumps are fine — this is not a recipe that demands perfection.
Mix the wet ingredients. Stir the melted coconut oil, maple syrup, plant-based milk, and vanilla extract into the mashed bananas until fully combined.
Combine the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.
Fold together. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and fold gently with a spatula until just combined. Do not overmix — stop as soon as you no longer see dry flour. If using walnuts or chocolate chips, fold them in now.
Pan and rest. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and smooth the top. Let it sit for 5 minutes while the oven finishes preheating.
Bake. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, until the top is deep golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. If the top is browning too quickly after 40 minutes, tent loosely with foil.
Cool before slicing. Allow the loaf to cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Let it cool for at least 20 minutes before slicing — the inside continues to set as it rests.

Nutrition (per serving)

Vegan Banana Bread — The Kitchen That Holds You