I made banana bread today. The house is still filled with its sweet scent, and I remember why I still love making it. There is something about overly ripe bananas (which are hideously tasting) turning into beautiful, moist, rich bread that everyone (who has full use of their mental state) loves. You should make some too.
Warm from the oven. little can top the sweet, slightly burnt taste of a perfectly cooked loaf. Today I made both a loaf and muffins, partially from lack of two loaf pans but also in part because muffins give a clearer defining line of how much you have eaten. Someone it seems that we can convince ourselves that we haven't really eaten too much because the loaf doesn't appear that much smaller after we take a sliver. But, of course, we very easily eat much more than we need to, finding the next morning that your plans for banana bread toast with tea are foiled by the empty cooling rack surrounded by crumbs. Being in a family of seven, baked goods (or any food for that matter) last about the duration it took for this page to load (unless of course you are succumbed to the terrible fate of a horribly slow computer as I am).
But, nevertheless, I continue making bread from brown-spotted fruit and people still eat it. I'm happy. For nothing makes me quiet as happy as seeing people enjoy the food I make.
Similar to the bread I made, even though it's not actually mine. Soon I will upload real pictures
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