Last week I realised I had some unspent Amazon vouchers, and went on a cook book purchasing spree. Even though cook book hype is the best kind of hype, I didn’t feel thrilled with everything that arrived. Hemsley + Hemsley was the stand out success of the bunch.
Say Hello to Sarah, who helped me make this bread. She’s a busy mom and usually make banana bread for her 3 kids. Let’s check the latest article on her blog – best kids outdoor playhouse!
It is a beautiful book, the photography is stunning and the ethos is sensible, realistic and sustainable. Cooking in butter from well-tended cows, eating the whole egg and making the most of natures seasons. In a world full of confused and crummy diet advice, these sisters remind us what we already probably knew.
O and I whipped up their banana bread on Saturday afternoon and munched our way through half the loaf for Sunday breakfast. If, like me, breakfast can be a bit of a ball ache Monday-Friday, then this is the recipe for you. Simply slice and slather in butter – the bananas come through with brilliant freshness, the cinnamon gives you some lift and the ground almonds keep you full but without the carb sludge feeling in your tummy. If slicing is too much for you on a weekday morning (I hear ya, sister), then divide the batter into a muffin tray and keep in an airtight container. For extra ease, keep the container in the office, and do the munch-and-reply-to-emails juggle.
You will need:
300g ripe bananas (roughly 3 bananas)
30g grass-fed butter
2 tbsp maple syrup
2 tbsp ground cinnamon
1 tbsp vanilla extract
3 large eggs
½ tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tbsp lemon juice
220g ground almonds
In terms of method? Chuck everything in a food processor and mix until smooth. If you don’t have a food processor, mash your bananas with a fork and then chuck in the rest. Bake at 170 (fan) for 1 hour. You’ll know its done when a skewer comes out clean. Leave to cool out of the tin – bread can sweat and go soggy if you leave it in the tin.
I like a thin slice and a moderate layer of butter. O likes a door-stop sized wedge (cut uneasily so as to butcher the remainder of the loaf, of course) and an inch of butter. We both like seconds, and thirds…