As always, I enjoyed reading your work, this time because it brought back so many memories - strange, isn't it, how so many of our memories are bound up with food? Or perhaps, not so strange, considering its pervading influence on our lives. I grew up in Kenya, and the market and street vendors were a constant source of delight - had Mother but known my ayah occasionally bought me an edible treat from them, she'd have had a fit! - and the sheer variety of bananas was fascinating. Ladies' fingers weren't okra, they were a type of very sweet, very small banana, and plantains cooked into a very quick and tasty pudding - halved, fried in butter, spread with jam and covered with meringue, then fiished under the grill: a childhood favourite! And my grandmother had her own bananas in the garden. As with so many other fruits, there's no comparison with one fresh-picked, and the supermarket variety!
Farmers markets in Hawaii offer a wide range of banana types. I like the small red ones. I’ll try this later this month when we visit Maui.
Banana blossoms for sale, too? How lucky you are!
As always, I enjoyed reading your work, this time because it brought back so many memories - strange, isn't it, how so many of our memories are bound up with food? Or perhaps, not so strange, considering its pervading influence on our lives. I grew up in Kenya, and the market and street vendors were a constant source of delight - had Mother but known my ayah occasionally bought me an edible treat from them, she'd have had a fit! - and the sheer variety of bananas was fascinating. Ladies' fingers weren't okra, they were a type of very sweet, very small banana, and plantains cooked into a very quick and tasty pudding - halved, fried in butter, spread with jam and covered with meringue, then fiished under the grill: a childhood favourite! And my grandmother had her own bananas in the garden. As with so many other fruits, there's no comparison with one fresh-picked, and the supermarket variety!
What a wonderful and colourful picture you've painted! I can almost hear the street cries and smell the bananas.
Thanks for the compliment! I might get that best-seller into print yet ...