Banana Cream Pie

photo: Eric Diesel

As was, perhaps, inevitable after the highs and lows of June, the first long weekend in July found me uncharacteristically too drained to do much around the house. June took it out of me. The month that began, unofficially, with Memorial Day torpedoed from there with social and professional obligations, concluding with a busy Pride Week calendar that included managing the graduation ceremony for the Harvey Milk High School Class of 2011, escorting a VIP on an extended tour of Greenwich Village and treating John to birthday dinner at our favorite steakhouse. This dinner became an impromptu engagement party, as friends joined us to celebrate Governor Cuomo signing marriage equity legislation into law that same weekend. One week to the night after the law was signed, we were in a Broadway theatre, being devastated by a gorgeous production of Larry Kramer’s The Normal Heart.

We saw the play on a stunning summer evening, when the lights of Times Square and the high-toned excitement of a Broadway house reminded us – potential second residence in Los Angeles notwithstanding – of the pride and paradox of being a New Yorker. For the pride in knowing that the Empire State is the largest state in the Union so far to offer marriage equity not just to its own citizens but to out-of-state couples was bittersweet in the context of the brutal truths told by this landmark play.

It was fitting to see The Normal Heart to inaugurate July Fourth weekend, for it set the tone not just for celebrating liberty but appreciating it. For just as the crossroads of the world brings locals together with visitors for the clash of cultures that culminates, on the opposite curve of the ever-spinning wheel of the year, with New Year’s Eve mayhem, locals ourselves are a clash of cultures. The characters in the play come from a variety of backgrounds (one character is an arty gay man from Oklahoma!). The company converges for the New York minutes that comprise the performance before returning to their own neighborhoods and the same sacred details of living that we all share, from high rise to homestead, from walking distance to the theatre to subway rides to limos.

Yesterday morning, I took the long way to the business district to do errands. Walking through the park, I saw that first nighters had already staked their claims with blankets and folding tables for an afternoon of sun and games, barbeques and bug juice. Astoria Park fronts the East River, sprawling beneath two great city bridges to offer a perfect view of blue water for boating and night skies for fireworks. In the urban homes that line Astoria’s streets, mothers in shorts and Keds and grandmothers in housecoats and schussies swept porches and watered plants in anticipation of afternoon arrivals of family and friends. Out back, dads had already started the manly task of firing up grills so that the coals are just right when it's time to char the steaks and sear the salmon.

Having opted to stay in the city for the long weekend, John and I will celebrate simply. I will grill burgers and fry potatoes, and have iced down beer and cider for Snakebites. And, just as my grandmother did every July Fourth, I have made a banana cream pie. I don’t know exactly how the tradition transpired, but in that time and place, a group celebration called for a blue-ribbon dessert, and though fresh fruit was already coming in from field and orchard, one could make a cream or chiffon pie without firing up the oven during those hot months on the plains.

The church ladies in charge of those “pie boards” turn out to have been right, both in the decision to make the pie and in the slice that resulted. Though I love diners, I can barely recognize the yankee diner version of banana cream pie. It tends to be a solid wedge of fluff weighted with piped whipped topping and sprinkled with inexplicable almonds, often with slabs of oxidized banana fitted between the filling and the crust. Our grandmothers made this dessert as a cushion of intensely flavored pastry cream, topped with a pillow of nutmeg-spiked whipped cream, a few coins of caramelized banana, or a shower of butter brickle. Taking care with these rich flavors and textures is how this pie should be prepared, served and enjoyed.

And appreciated. For I have learned that even hardcore foodies who number among their friends people who cook on tv go bananas for banana cream pie. My favorite banana cream feedback, though? My friend and colleague Amy who wrote, simply, that her grandmother made it every year for her July birthday. How touching, and special, that memory is, and how honored I was that she shared it. For her, and from all of our grandmothers from Ohio to Oklahoma, here is a genuine recipe for this most old-fashioned of blue-ribbon desserts.

BANANA CREAM PIE

Most grocery stores sell banana extract in the baking or spices aisle; here is a good one available online. If you’re inclined, Karen DeMasco has a wonderful recipe for graham crackers in her wonderful book The Craft of Baking, but it is okay to use supermarket graham cracker crumbs for the crust. I make my banana cream pie in a non-stick springform pan – the kind used for cheesecakes – for ease of serving, but you can use a ceramic or glass pie plate if you prefer.

For the crust
1-1/4 cup graham cracker crumbs
¼ cup granulated sugar
5 tablespoons butter
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

For the custard
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
¼ teaspoon table salt
1-1/2 cups whipping cream
1-1/2 cups whole milk
4 eggs
½ vanilla bean
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
3 teaspoons banana extract

For the bananas
2 – 3 fresh bananas
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 teaspoon bourbon or rum

Make the crust
1. Heat the oven to 300 degrees.
2. Place a small saucepan on the stovetop. Place a 9-inch non-stick springform pan near the stovetop.
3. Place the butter in the saucepan. Turn the heat to low.
4. While the butter is melting, place the graham cracker crumbs, sugar and cinnamon into a large mixing bowl. Use a wire whisk to mix the dry ingredients together.
5. Once the butter is melted, turn off the burner and hold the saucepan containing the melted butter over the bowl containing the dry ingredients. Gently pour the melted butter in a thin stream into the dry ingredients, using a silicon spatula to fold the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture is moist and spreadable.
6. Use the spatula to spread the graham cracker crust along the bottom and up the sides of the springform pan. It is okay if the mixture doesn’t reach all the way up the sides. Use the spatula to smooth out any holes in the crust.
7. Gently place the pan containing the crust into the oven. Heat for 5 minutes; just until set. Once the crust is set, turn off the oven. Remove the pan from the oven and place the pan on a protected countertop to cool. Do not place the crust in the refrigerator during the cooling period; this will cause it to crack.

Make the custard
1. Place a heavy saucepan on the stovetop. Measure the cream and milk into the pan. Turn the heat to low.
2. Measure the sugar into a mixing bowl. Measure the cornstarch, nutmeg and salt into the sugar. Use a clean wire whisk to mix the ingredients together.
3. Working carefully to protect the vanilla bean seeds, hold the vanilla bean half over the bowl containing the sugar mixture. Carefully scrape the knife down the inside of the bean so that the tiny seeds fall into the sugar. They will also stick to the knife; swirl the knife in the sugar to release those seeds into the sugar. Place the scraped vanilla bean into a glass jar for future use as an infusing agent.
4. Hold an egg separator over a cup and break each egg over the separator, catching each yolk in the separator and letting each white fall into the cup. Decant each yolk into a small bowl. Cover the whites and refrigerate for another use.
5. Hold the bowl containing the sugar mixture over the heating cream/milk mixture. Use one hand to pour the sugar mixture into the cream/milk mixture, while using the other hand to whisk the sugar mixture into the cream/milk mixture. Continue whisking until the sugar dissolves and mixture thickens, approximately two minutes.
6. Once the custard has thickened, measure a spoonful of custard into the egg yolks; whisk vigorously to incorporate the yolks without cooking them. Use a small silicon spatula to scrape the yolk mixture into the custard on the stovetop with one hand while using the other hand to whisk constantly so that the yolks are well incorporated into the custard.
7. Continue cooking, whisking occasionally, until small bubbles appear on the sides of the custard against the wall of the pan and ripples form in the center of the custard, approximately three minutes.
8. Remove the custard from the heat. Measure the banana extract into the custard; whisk to incorporate.
9. Use a silicon spatula to gently fill the cooled graham cracker crust with the banana custard. Transfer the pie to the refrigerator and chill 4 hours before serving.

Caramelize the bananas
1. Before serving the pie, place the butter and brown sugar into a non-stick frying pan. Place the pan on the stovetop and turn the burner to low.
2. While the butter and sugar are heating, peel the banana. Use a paring knife to cut the banana into coins approximately ¼ inch thick.
3. Once the butter and sugar are foamy and slightly darkened, scrape the banana coins into the pan. Use a silicon spatula to gently swirl the ingredients so that each banana is coated with caramel.
4. Cook until the banana coins are caramelized and give off their fragrance, approximately two minutes.
5. Turn off the burner and remove the pan from the heat. Drizzle the caramelized bananas with rum or bourbon, shaking the pan vigorously to distribute the ingredients while standing back to avoid flare-ups if any.
6. Serve each slice of pie with a few caramelized bananas.