|Banana Nut Bread – recipe in post|
“Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.”
There’s something powerful about the word “home”. We strive to define it as something bigger, something more than simple shelter and a place to kick off one’s shoes. It is a place we create for ourselves, something uniquely our own, where we can feel, well… at home.
For me, home means the house I’ve made my own, the place I’ve become such a part of, here with The Fiancé. Our own little niche in the world. It is also a feeling, something he and I carry with us wherever we go, whenever we’re together. But it also means something else… home is a memory. It is my childhood. A nostalgic place where I’m about six years old, building couch forts in my parent’s living room. It is a place where life is easy, and everything is bright and vivid and loud.
There’s something about banana nut bread reminds me of that home, of my childhood… I don’t really remember my parents baking it, nor did I learn to make it from some hand-written heirloom of a recipe… but I do remember cutting thick, warm slices of it in the mornings with my mother, and sneaking seconds (and sometimes thirds) when I thought she wasn’t looking.
She knew, of course.
Now that I’m all grow’d up, banana bread is no longer some elusive thing that appears in the house from time to time – it’s something I am fully capable of bringing into reality out of simple ingredients I always have on hand. I still kind of miss my couch fort, but growing up was so worth it.
|“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is a time for home.” – Edith Sitwell|