Banana Nut Bread

I live in a world where food and photographs are currency. I never imagined there’d be a period in my life where I’d be exchanging cookies for baguettes and challah for hot dogs. I didn’t know that I’d be trading photos for steaks. I have somehow transported myself back to America, circa 1850. I barter and I cook in beef tallow. I have considered seeing how far I can continue trading up. Could I go from two dozen cookies to a car? Maybe. That’s best left for a separate blog.

My mom and sister are avid bakers, but they don’t get high off their own supply. Their self-control disgusts me. My dad is a “healthy eater” who often requests my mom buy huge amounts of fruit and vegetables, then doesn’t really eat them. 

Leftover ripe bananas means banana bread. My mom makes it, wraps it up, then texts me that there’s banana bread for pick up. I get it, eat a piece out from the center so no one knows I did it, then deliver it to whatever restaurant I’m at that day.

I don’t know where this recipe originated—probably my grandma—but it changed over the years and has become my favorite banana bread ever. The outside gets dark and crusty, while the inside remains pillowy soft. The chopped up walnuts or pecans give it some crunch. The raisins provide little bursts of sweetness. I think I could eat an entire loaf in one sitting, if I was left unattended. I’ve heard some of the chefs say they like to toast it and spread butter on top, but that’s just gilding the lily.

YIELD: 1 LOAF | ACTIVE: 10 MINUTES | TOTAL: 1 HOUR AND 25 MINUTES

INGREDIENTS

3 large bananas, mashed
1 stick butter
1 c sugar
2 eggs
1-2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp salt
1.5 c AP flour
1/2 t baking soda
1 c pecans (or walnuts)
1 c raisins
1 t vanilla extract

METHOD

Preheat oven to 350F.

Put the pecans on a lightly sprayed baking sheet and toast for 5-10 minutes, until aromatic. Let cool a bit, then HULK SMASH them.

Using an electric mixer, combine the butter and sugar, then add the eggs one at a time. Add the rest of the ingredients and mix until fully incorporated. Pour the batter into a greased loaf pan and bake for 75 minutes. Check doneness with a knife—nothing should stick. If it does, continue checking every 5 minutes.

Scenes from Companion Bakery

Behind the Scenes Companion Baking

West St. Louis Campus St. Louis, Missouri July 2016

Josh Galliano and the Companion team were nice enough to let me spend the day with them on the bakery floor at their new (41,000 square foot!) West St. Louis Campus. Being in a room full of breads baking non-stop had me so hungry—I think I ate an entire baguette on my drive home. Oh, and I didn't even steal any of the pretzel baguettes/rolls/buns/sticks when no one was looking, even though the temptation was STRONG. I just love those damn pretzels so much.

Take a look at what it takes to make a lot of bread at Companion St. Lous:

croissants Companion Bakery

deck ovens Companion Bakery

The West St. Louis Campus is also home to another Companion Cafe, so if you live or work nearby, you're in luck! They offer a full selection of their breads, pastries, and lunch items (great sandwiches and salads), plus the occasional speciality item from a test run the bakery. One of the coolest parts of that cafe is that nearly half the walls are actually glass, looking straight onto the production floor—you can watch them mix, proof, shape, and bake. I like to stand outside the window with a pad of paper and pretend to be grading them.

If you enjoy cooking classes, you should check out their Companion Teaching Kitchen schedule here. I took the pretzel making class with longtime Companion Price Barrett, and not only did I leave with like 30 pretzels (poorly shaped, ugly pretzels...but still, pretzels!), but I'm now pretty sure I could open my own pretzel store. I won't, because it's time consuming, I'm lazy, and Companion's already nailing them, but I could! Look for classes with Companion's founder, Josh Allen, and chefs Cassy Vires and Josh Galliano.

Union Loafers

I'd heard the rumors for nearly two years: Ted Wilson is going to open a bakery, they'd say. It's going to be by La Patisserie Chouquette and Olio, they'd whisper. Ted's bread is better than any bread you've had before, they assured me. Years went by and not once did I see this mysterious Ted Wilson, nor did I find his bread anywhere. I'd sit at Chouquette staring longingly at the empty shop across the street while Patrick and Simone consoled me with caneles and frangipane. I gave up hope. I moved on. I filled that calorific deficit with fried chicken.

Then the flood of texts and tweets came: Ted had appeared in our time of need, much like Jesus or Gandalf, and he had bread in tow. Union Loafers was here!

It took me 2 weeks to get over to Loafers—leave off Union, like the cool guys do—which gave my chef and 'foodie' (I hate that word) friends plenty of time to ridicule me for not going there immediately.

To be honest, I didn't rush because I just didn't see how a bakery and sandwich shop could be that good.

union loafers st.louis interior

union loafers st.louis bar

It is that good. I don't know what Ted (and Brian Lagerstrom, formerly of Niche) do to their bread, but they've got me carbo-loading like I've got a race to run.

union loafers st.louis menu

union loafers st.louis bread

union loafers seasoning pork

union loafers chef ted wilson

union loafers st.louis bakery

Loafers offers six bread options at the moment—I bought them all. I've never walked out of a bakery with a bag that not only was big enough to fit a toddler in, but weighed as much.  They also have a constantly evolving lunch menu made up of salad, soup, and sandwiches.

I had just watched Brian prepare a batch of pork for the oven in the back, so I had to go with the Roasted Pork Sandwich, served on a small ciabatta roll (ciabattini, son). It may sound like any sandwich you'd get at Panera or Whole Foods—roasted pork with country ham, gruyere cheese, pickles, mustard, and a garlic mayo—but it's not. It'd be like saying a Toyota is the same as an Aston Martin just because they both have wheels, doors, and an engine.

This is a lumberjack sized sandwich with meat piled up high. If you're new to eating sandwiches without processed meat or vegetables that had been vacuum sealed weeks before, you may be shocked at the wonderful flavors and textures, but don't be alarmed. This is what a ham sandwich should taste like.

Other sandwich offerings include turkey & swiss, ham & cheddar, smoked beets, and almond butter and raspberry jam. I got serious order envy seeing one of the nut butter sandwiches get delivered.

Of all my food weaknesses, few can compete with what happens when I'm near sweet, sweet carbs. In my earlier days as a fat youth, I'd come home from school and chowdown on a bagel or whatever bread we had in the house like there was no tomorrow. Coming home with pounds of bread and trying to hide it from myself had the same result.

First off, the Rye bread: organic whole rye, organic sifted wheat, caraway seeds (there's something about caraway that sings to my Jewish soul, much like Neil Diamond), sea salt and water. It's airy and hearty, screaming to be sliced and covered in some kind of meat. I felt myself morphing into a New York Jew as I ate this, looking for chopped liver or smoked tongue to put on.

The Light & Mild is what I'd describe as an everyday bread. It's base is nearly the same as the rye, just omitting the caraway and using whole wheat instead of rye, but that makes all the difference in the world. It's...well, lighter and milder.

Ciabatta is much less exciting than the other two to me, but still—tasty.

While the breads above are wonderful and perfectly suitable for expanding your waistline and thighs, the bakery's 'snacks' are much, much sexier. The comically sized pretzel didn't even make it home. I started eating it as soon as I walked out the door and by the time I walked in the door, I was just flicking the salt flakes off my shirt. It's soft. It's pretzely. It goes fantastically well with their housemade grain mustard. If they add a cheese sauce to the menu, I'll have to bring a change of pants with me every time I go.

The pizzas, formally known as pizza rosa and cheesy bread, give the pretzel a run for its money. I watched Ted make both as I slobbered on the floor of the bakery like a dog. He foolishly set them in front of me to let them cool. I had visions of just taking the whole pie (loaf? sheet?) and running out the door, but Ted seems like he's fit enough to catch me.

Pizza rosa is simple tomato and chili oil slice, while the cheesy bread is a lot like the breadsticks you get from Dominos/Papa Johns if they were fucking unreal. When I got home, I tried every bread. I cut myself a slice of the cheesy bread. I cut myself a slice of the rosa. I triumphantly put the cheesy bread in some tupperware and set it aside.

One hour later I snuck back downstairs and finished both the rosa and cheesy bread.

I've never been hungrier writing a post. Brb. Heading to Loafers.

Union Loafers

1629 Tower Grove Ave

St. Louis, MO 63110

314.833.6111

Priyaa

You could poke my eyes out and deafen me, then wheel me into almost any Indian restaurant in town and I could order without seeing the menu or letting anyone read it to me. One chicken korma! One saag paneer! Tikka masala, please. It seems like they're all your typical North Indian restaurant serving the same dishes with nearly the same quality and taste levels.

That's not to say the food is bad - it isn't - it's just that there is no range in quality or choices.  India is huge. Go on Wikipedia and you'll see 37 types of regional Indian cuisines listed. Give me some Goan seafood dishes with their Portuguese influence. It's just like Japanese restaurants in the US: there's more to Japan's cuisine than ramen and sushi.

After eating lunch at the forgettable Chihuahua's Mexican at 270 and Dorsett, I noticed Priyaa Indian at the corner of the strip mall and got to Googling. South Indian dishes! Two days later, I was there.

Interior at Priyaa Indian

I love South Indian food; there was a hawker stand I went to weekly in Singapore that served up an enormous dosa with rainbow of sides for something like $6. South Indian food is typically spicier and contains more tamarind and coconut to replace the dairy often seen in the north (paneer, cream), which is a-ok with me.

As I tout my love of the South, I order a Punjab (North Indian) entree: the Chole Bhatura. Our waitress told us it was one of her favorites and not something seen at most other restaurants in town, so we went with it. This was one delicious, spicy bowl of chickpea curry. It looks like your typical American chili, but the flavors - cinnamon, fennel, cardamom, turmeric - let you know you're not in Kansas anymore.

The dish is served with three giant bhatura, a puffed fried bread.

I let me stomach dictate my photos of the rava masala dosa. I knew they weren't great shots, but the smell was so tempting, I couldn't resist. I had to start eating.

For the unaware, a dosa is basically a gigantic crepe that is filled with a thick vegetable curry (if it has masala in the name), then folded or rolled. The rava (semolina flour) masala dosa's batter contains onions, peppers, and all sorts of spices, making every bite a flavor-filled one. It's crispy, it's comically large, and I devoured it. I went in with low expectations, but after tasting how spot on the dosa was, I wanted to try every type they make.

Chickpea Stew at Priyaa Indian

Dosa at Priyaa Indian

Tandoori Chicken at Priyaa Indian

We had expected all of the entrees to come at the same time, but the tandoori chicken came 10-15 minutes after everything else. By that time, we'd gone through the entire dosa (see below) and most of the chickpea curry - there wasn't much room left for chicken. And, as if a dosa and the bhatura bread weren't enough, the chicken came with naan (see below again). Suffering from Celiac? Don't come here.

The chicken was standard: charred and juicy. It was good, but not an item that I'd return to Priyaa for specifically.

I wish Priyaa had more South Indian dishes on their menu, but I understand that they probably aren't their money makers - yet. If you enjoy Indian spices and want to try something different, head over and get some dosas to share. Or, better yet, get one dosa and one of their Thali, something like a sampler platter.

What's your favorite Indian restaurant in St. Louis?

Priyaa Indian Cuisine

1910 McKelvey Rd

Maryland Heights, MO 63043

314-542-6148

Cornbread

After nearly 70 posts criticizing all your favorite restaurants, I've decided its time for me to expand my horizons and add some new content to the site. Welcome to In The Kitchen with Whiskey & Soba. Okay, that's probably not going be what I call this section. I just haven't come up with a great name yet. While I have absolutely no formal cooking training, I have watched a huge amount of Food Network & Cooking Channel, plus I've eaten a lot of food. Once I came up with an idea that chef Josh Galliano said was "cool".

More importantly, both my mom and grandma included me and my siblings when they cooked and made it fun. I still remember the first time I ever cut my finger cooking. I was spending an afternoon with my grandma and she had awesomely allowed 11 year old me to pick my pizza toppings. Being the gourmet kid I was, I opted for hot dogs. I think it was about 5 minutes into slicing the hot dogs before I missed and got my finger. I haven't had a hot dog pizza since.

Since fall is rolling in, I decided that my first cooking posts should be on two of my fall staples: chili and cornbread. We'll focus on cornbread today.

Mom’s Cornbread

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Cornbread

Yield: 1 | Prep: 10 minutes | Active: 25 Min | Total: 35 minutes

INGREDIENTS

1 C AP flour
1 C cornmeal
1/2 C sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 egg
1/4 cup melted butter, fatty
1 cup milk

METHOD

Preheat oven to 400 f.

Grease a 8-9” pan.

Mix dry ingredients together, then stir in wet ingredients.

Pour into pan and bake 20-25 minutes. Stick knife in to check for doneness. If batter doesn’t stick, it’s done!

Mom's Cornbread Recipe

My Mom's Cornbread Recipe

Yum