Memories (Granny’s Banana Pudding)

Throughout most of the years of my adult life, I have been on a quest. I have searched far and wide. I have traveled the globe and tasted the creations of the masters.

As a modern day Marco Polo of culinary delights, I have enjoyed balut and aso adobo in Manila, llama in La Paz, borscht in Moscow, rice and beans and beans and rice and rice and beans casserole in Costa Rica, plantains galore in Panama, armadillo in Colombia, guinea pig in Ecuador, prickly pear in Mexico, potatoes a plenty in Latvia, “strange meat” in Lithuania, (I promise that was the name of it), conch in Saint Croix; and I have feasted on the unknown in Montserrat. 

Yet in all of my searching and all of my travels, I have never tasted anything as wonderful, as mysterious or as satisfying as my Granny Tharpe’s home cooked banana pudding.

Some have come close; Mary, my lovely bride, comes the closest, but nothing quite matches the taste, texture and ecstasy of Granny’s banana pudding. There was just something about her pudding that made it the best.  

Perhaps it was the crucible that contained her gastronomic wonder: a rectangular dish of chipped Pyrex with rounded corners and little glass ears upon which to grasp. The outside was the color of caramel and it was slightly translucent. Complementing the interior, little cream colored flowers danced across the outside surface.

Perchance she used goat milk or something more exotic. Maybe she had a secret banana supplier known only to her. Who knows, whatever, there was something special about it; some special ingredient that made it just right.

I will never know, the recipe died with her. She never shared it. My mom, being her closest genetic match, tried to duplicate the feat, but failed dismally.

I used to theorize that Granny’s special ingredients consisted of a dash of orneriness and a splash of lard. Considering the fact that in the Deep South lard was and still remains a certified food group, I stand by that thought; but while lard lingers, Granny’s special brand of orneriness will never be duplicated.

So I suppose her miraculous offering to the world of the culinary arts will remain in my memory forever. It will never pass my lips again this side of Heaven, but my first Sunday dinner beyond the Jordan will be a delight.

Now I know that chemically speaking my Granny’s banana pudding may very well be the same as your Memma’s, Mimmi’s or Grammie’s offering to the world, but I will contend until the rapture and beyond that my Granny’s is the best. 

Now if you’re itching for a fight, you are welcome to say otherwise. I wouldn't recommend it though, because somehow the essence, the very life-force of my Granny was in every Nilla Vanilla Wafer, every slice of banana and every ladle of that luscious pudding that felt like satin on your tongue.

Memories are a gift from God, and they are amazingly powerful.

As we start a New Year, I would like to put forth this challenge. Over the coming year let us all strive with everything we have to make memories that will last. Memories, that when recalled, build up and strengthen our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Let our following of Christ be an inspiration to others, both young and old, Christians and non-believers that will last them a lifetime. Let our lives individually and as a congregation be such that when next year rolls around we can look back and remember with humble pride the accomplishments made for the Kingdom and the King.

May the essence, the very life-force of Christ our Lord and Savior be evident in all we do, every word we speak and everything we are.

Love, Pastor Tony  
 
 

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