This cookbook is bananas

Bananas Take A Bow, published in 1939 by the Fruit Dispatch Company

Back when bananas were relatively new to the American diet, the few companies that imported the fruit put out recipe pamphlets to help market the tropical delicacy. (Same for lots of foods, of course, even if they weren’t so “exotic.”)

The Fruit Dispatch Company — a subsidiary of United Fruit Company (which eventually became Chiquita) — published this little cookbook in 1939. The Fruit Dispatch Company was in charge of distributing bananas in the U.S., which included printing lots of recipe books to push that product.

A bit on United Fruit Company:

United Fruit Company was headed by Sam “the Banana Man” Zemurray, who enjoyed close relations with the US State Department and the CIA. In 1954, Zemurray used the CIA to support a military coup against the president of Guatemala, Jacobo Arbenz, who had challenged Zemurray’s monopolies. During this period, US diplomats appeared either as active agents of US corporations or as negligent facilitators of a neocolonial American empire. The US military served these corporate and national interests by providing “protection” to the economic interests of white US elites.

I vaguely knew the unsavory side of bananas, but reading more about how they came to dominate American fruit sales was, well, bananas! (Related: a few theories on how “bananas” came to mean crazy.) I’ve included several links for further reading at the end if you’d like to be simultaneously fascinated and disgusted.

Needless to say, this little cookbook keeps things light, content-wise — although I suppose there is something dark about a trio of anthropomorphic bananas dancing happily towards a sizzling skillet.

In 1939, THE banana to buy was the Gros Michel, aka Big Mike, a slightly more flavorful and tasty variety (according to people who’ve had them) compared to today’s standard, Cavendish. A fungus wiped out most Gros Michel plants in the mid-1900s, prompting Cavendish’s rise to dominance. Because bananas reproduce asexually — they’re all clones — the reliance on one variety makes Cavendish prone to disease as well. It’s almost like a lack of diversity is a bad thing!

(It is like that. That was sarcasm.)

There were many intriguing recipes to choose from, including banana scallops (breaded in corn flake crumbs, pan-fried), banana rice patties (cooked rice shaped into oblong patties and topped with banana slices, butter, and salt, baked, then served with hot cheese sauce), and the usual suspects when it comes to banana cookery: breads, muffins, cakes, pies, drinks.

The really curious thing, beyond the sketches which are truly wonderful, is the writing. The copy has that upbeat voice that feels so common in today’s blogs, recipe headnotes, instagram captions, etc. Someone (can’t remember where or who!) recently described this as “happy robot voice.” I’m not dissing the style per se — I understand a lot of online writing is all about that search engine optimization — but it’s all a little monotonous. (Almost like a lack of diversity is a bad thing!)

An example (direct quote from the book, abundant ellipsis and all):

And now you can actually drink a banana! Drink its golden goodness, its tantalizing flavor. Drink its vitamins and minerals, its energy-suppliers…a quick pep-restorer. Drink a banana milk shake to fight four o’clock fatigue…feel your spirits soar! Have one ready for the children when they come home tired from school. Lure sweet sleep by making it your bedtime snack! It’s easy to make and so good….

The Banana Bakery section clearly got the most use, based on the crinkly, deep stains and hand-written note for banana bread tucked in as a bookmark. We’re 99 percent certain that’s Braeden’s great-grandma’s handwriting.

And while a recipe for banana ham rolls (mix butter and mustard, spread on ham slices, wrap around firm, peeled bananas, pour cheese sauce over top, bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes) almost tempted me, I went with a simple bananas au gratin instead. I even made it on a Tuesday, as they suggested.

I’m not quite sure what “dry” American cheese is, so I went with cotija (it is dry, after all). For the bread crumbs I used panko. Unlike others in the book, this recipe didn’t specify how ripe the banana should be, but since it’s savory I figured less ripe would be better. And while the amounts here say they’ll work for six bananas, I only used two but kept the other measurements the same and ended up using it all.

Would I make this again? No, probably not. But it wasn’t terrible. It almost has the flavor profile of a fried plantain, but a bit sweeter and with a much creamier texture. Obviously it needs some sort of sauce, otherwise it’s just a warm, slightly crunchy banana, so we went with a chipotle hot sauce (after ever so briefly considering ketchup), but an acidic, herby, cilantro-based sauce would be nice too.

Bananas au gratin
adapted from Bananas Take a Bow by the Home Economics Department of the Fruit Dispatch company (1939)

• 1/4 cup grated cotija

• 1 tablespoon panko bread crumbs

• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt

• 2 tablespoons lemon juice

• 2 firm, unripe bananas, peeled and cut in half crosswise

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees and grease a baking dish. Mix together the cheese, panko, and salt on a small plate. Pour the lemon juice onto another small plate. Roll each banana half first in the lemon, then in the cheese crumbs, pressing slightly to help the crumbs stick. Transfer to the baking dish and bake until the coating turns golden, about 20 minutes. Serve hot, ideally with a spicy sauce. Maybe some baked beans would be good on the side? Or a salad? I have no idea.

Yield: 2 servings

More banana reading:

Banana Republics: The Dispossession of Smallholders

The Birth of America’s Banana King

Amid a global banana crisis, Puerto Rico’s abundant biodiversity offers a taste of hope

Old Time Farm Crime: The Banana Massacre

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In other news, I wrote a short article on the Nebraskan fast food chain Runza for the newsletter Smart Mouth (while managing to avoid the “wow, there is good food in Nebraska” cliche, ahem). Give it a read here:

Nebraska's Fast-Food Chain with Volga German Roots