who put the bop in the bop she bop she bop...

I had a piece of banana bread this morning. It was delicious.

However it only served to remind me of the best banana bread I have ever had. The Holy Grail of banana bread as it were. This epitome of flour and banana was composed, kneaded and baked by none other than my dear departed Boppy.

I realize I’ve only mentioned my grandfather briefly before but he was truly a remarkable man. He dedicated his life to peace, traveling around the world to help others.

Of course my memories include an iron-like grip on your upper arm as he dragged you to meet your 4th cousin twice removed and explain the genealogy between the two family trees. Or the time he was cleaning out hornets nests from underneath the Adirondack chairs and when one particularly angry hornet came out to investigate he tried burning it with the lighter he was holding. That was hilarious. Both man and hornet survived unscathed. Last but certainly not least, the memory of warm chocolate banana bread.

After my Grandmother passed away my Grandpa eventually took over the role of family baker. Sure there were some trial and error pies but he ended up a great cook. Some may say his berry patch pie was the best, some will argue for the cherry cheesecake. I for one absolutely adored his chocolate banana bread. It was a thick, dark springy loaf that delighted the senses. I would cut huge cube like pieces and slather butter on it, still warm from the oven. Sigh. So delicious.

The moral of this story? Savour your family members as much as you do their cooking, you never know when you will be cut off.

I have no doubt in my mind that when I die and head down that long tunnel towards the light there will be a great big slab of chocolate banana bread waiting for me, still warm from the oven.