I'm happy. I have a hard time believing anyone could be as happy as I am. I look around myself and when I catch my eyes on someone else's loving, don't waste much time thinking. It's selfish and perhaps silly, but it's Technicolor where the rest feels black and white to me. I guess it's supposed to. I guess the only person that's supposed to feel your Technicolor is you.
I sit in the aisle and munch my banana bread. I'm trying to give needless sugar the finger while also staying on the right path, and not turning myself too heavily into a tyrant. I'm quite happy with this treat because it's healthy and because it's fun and because it tastes like love. Perhaps I'm just happy.
It has a way of coating everything else that's happening to me in a good, pleasurable sheen. I catch myself getting frustrated over things that don't work, though even that dissipates. I think, not everything good can come at the same time. But something has. Something.
A struggle between to gush and not to speak? Mortifying to be vulnerable and open up your feet. But also, isn't it so that the words I speak eventually have learned to say my name also? The line between frustrated and taking things one at a time is the second cup of coffee I'll brew in a moment. Have my sinful, caffeinated yoga out in the clouds. No. The line between frustrated and taking things one at a time is ensuring a balance. Yes, we've spoken of so many dark, dour things, but what comes of light? What are the good, happy things you're bringing to the table?
You know people in love by the glint of their lapel, the airy, light way they tap-dance when nobody looks. You know love, even when you haven't, you learn to pick it up off others. You can let it feed you or embitter you.
Kinda like my banana bread, 'cept there's no bitterness in this one. I'll try to remember how I did it to tell you. I don't see the point of using sugar in desserts with fruit, especially something so sweet-ish as a banana.
For the wet:
Mix two-three (over)ripe bananas with two-three eggs and some Greek yogurt to taste, eye, smell. Some vanilla essence if you like, but only a splash.
For the dry:
Mix about 150 g almond flour with cinnamon, baking powder, ground or smashed flaxseeds (a couple tablespoons).
Mix wet and dry together, then add to taste raisins and almond chunks. You can also try with dark chocolate chips, walnut or anything else you might fancy, but those are the ones I went with. I baked it in the hot oven because the cool one don't do much except hang out and smoke cigarettes. I baked it some 40-50 minutes at 175C. Was cooking something else during, so not really sure, but I know the toothpick test came out clean. Hey-ho.
For the sauce:
It'd be great without, but I wanted to be fancy and prep some kinda drizzle. So I took about half a pomegranate's seeds, a handful of blueberries, the juice from one small mandarin, plus a little grated zest. Add water depending how thin you want the drizzle to be. Mine came out more like a sauce and less like a drizzle, but I poured it over my banana bread anyway, after letting it cool for some 15 minutes and it came out great. the pomegranate went really well with the banana taste.
I served it as a treat, but my family weren't too keen on all the healthinesses, so I took the leftover as a plane snack with me and went to be happy, to read on metros, to spend time with trees.
I feel happiness in my cheeks even when I don't smile. I swear it's the weirdest thing. It's a strange time. A good, exciting time. If this can come, who knows what else, but it gives me confidence.
I didn't think I'd find this place. Not really. Didn't think I'd find this. Delicious banana bread and a small treasure trove of what-else:)
