Jackson Free Press

It goes without saying that the banana, fleeting as it may be in its perfection, is one fine fruit. For Americans, it's raw fruit numero uno as well as our favorite smell, according to a recent survey. Produce expert Tony Tantillo, syndicated as the "Fresh Grocer" in major TV markets across the country, says that the average American eats 29 pounds of bananas each year. If the average banana were to weigh, say 4 ounces, that's 116 bananas, or two bananas plus a bite every week, give or take.

That favorite is the succulently sweet fruit banana, either a Cavendish or a Giant Cavendish. The ones I best remember from my school lunch days were peeled and sliced lengthwise, resting on a plated lettuce leaf—a spoonful of mayo and a spoonful of peanut butter alongside. I suppose it was called a salad on the menu; I don't remember. I do remember slicing the banana just right with my fork, making a dip in the mayo or peanut butter—maybe both—striving to make it come out even. I never thought about eating the lettuce leaf. Nor did I ever think about its being a labor-intensive dish, which it surely was.

Bananas do go with intense labor, though, as in those who exercise in vast amounts, burning all sorts of calories, so as to break into a sweat, thereby depleting their stores of potassium and carbohydrates. How many road running races have you been to and not seen runners, in all degrees of conditioning, reaching gladly for the bananas provided at the end of the race? Those guys and gals know where their potassium awaits—one large banana contains 602 milligrams of the stuff that their bodies ran out of while they ran the race. And bicyclists will reach behind their backs as they careen down paved roads at breakneck speeds, pulling from a pocket a golden yellow banana, hardly losing a second of speed because they have practiced being able to peddle, peel and chew at the same time. I just imagine that when there's a big event held in a one-grocery town, there's a run on bananas like you've never even thought about. To endurance athletes, though, being prepared is a sort of religion.

For Southerners, whether they're exercise fanatics or not, bananas can be said to represent an experience bordering on the religious—as in scrupulously faithful or exact. I'm talking about banana pudding. If you're lucky enough to come from a family like mine, then you've tasted banana pudding that has the cooked pudding filling, not the one with store-bought or pudding-mix filling. I'm talking about the meringue on top, browned just right, with delicate drops of sugar-water beaded up here and there. For years and years, if we were having a family get-together, Mama Sudie—my mama Edna Earle's mother—made that exact kind of banana pudding. My brother Howard, who later on was an endurance athlete himself, is well known for trying to eat his weight in it. I'm sure he'd testify right now to the scrupulously faithful way Mama Sudie prepared it.

Americans met up with bananas—10 cents each, wrapped in foil—in 1876, at the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition. Bananas were so new that in 1878 instructions for eating them were published in the Domestic Cyclopaedia of Practical Information: "Bananas are eaten raw, either alone or cut in slices with sugar and cream, or wine and orange juice. They are also roasted, fried or boiled, and are made into fritters, preserves and marmalades."

No pudding? Well, it was published way up in New York. And I'll just bet banana pudding had to wait for the invention of the vanilla wafer, don't you?

Mama Sudie's Banana Pudding

3 heaping T. flour
1 C. sugar
2 C. milk
dash salt
2 eggs, separated
1 t. vanilla
Nabisco vanilla wafers, bananas (enough) 3 T. sugar

1. Combine dry ingredients (but not the 3 T. sugar) in a heavy sauce pan. Stir in the 2 C. of milk. Beat egg yolks, then stir them into the mixture. Stir in the vanilla. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until smooth and thickened. Remove from heat.
2. Cover bottom of oblong, deep glass baking dish with pudding. Layer in vanilla wafers and banana slices, covering each layer with pudding as you go. Leave just enough room at the top to spread meringue.
3. Beat egg whites until foamy. Add sugar, one tablespoon at a time, still beating. Smooth mixture onto top of pudding, banana, vanilla wafer mixture. Put in oven heated to 250 degrees and bake until golden brown. Serve warm or cold, depending upon what the family likes the most.