Believe it or not, I wasn’t always a cooking fanatic for the majority of my life thus far. Until I moved out of my parent’s house, I wasn’t up for much of anything involving the kitchen. Very rarely would you find me cooking anything, unless if it was boiling a pot of pasta or frying eggs for breakfast. I guess it just didn’t click with me until I was able to buy my own groceries and use my own appliances in my own kitchen. However, one thing you could always count on me doing — no matter what kitchen I’m in — was baking. Mostly sweets, of course: brownies, cookies, cakes. But sometimes cute little snacks: stuffed baby peppers, roasted cauliflower, sometimes a frozen quiche or two. But something my Mom could always count on me making without complaint was banana bread. Anytime we had some leftover bananas that ripened past the point of peeling and eating, I knew what I’d be doing for the day. Coming out of an ABC cookbook with the letter “B” being — you guessed it — bananas, that tradition has still continued to our new home, and I hope to continue on to my own children one day.