Endorsed: Roommates Who Bake

I live in an apartment that, usually, houses three other women. We occupy one half of a three-story house that’s been divided horizontally into two units— first floor is common areas, then two bedrooms on the second floor, and two bedrooms on the third. It’s very spacious and lovely and ramshackle in a way that’s mostly charming (e.g. instead of a dining table, we have a pool table we cover with plywood and drape with a tablecloth) but occasionally inconvenient enough to justify the comically reasonable rent we’re charged (e.g. if the lower half of my window is open, the upper half will not stay shut, and closing the two halves simultaneously requires a stepladder and a co-conspirator). It’s a good place, I can say with confidence, even after being confined to it for 11 weeks with no end in sight. But I cannot guarantee I would feel that way without the support of my roommate Mallory, who loves??? To bake????? for us????

Isn’t she lovely???

For the last few weeks, it’s been just the two of us— our other roommates temporarily moved in with their partners to make quarantine less risky— which means I haven’t even had to share the baked goods with anyone else. While I cannot send you Mallory, I can at least link to a recipe for the best banana bread I have ever eaten and provide a consumer-side endorsement of the book from which it originates— Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston’s Flour Bakery + Cafe by Joanne Chang. Baked correctly, the outside of this banana bread basically caramelizes and it is… just beyond delicious. Let some bananas get far, far too ripe and make it for yourself. Trust me, you’ll be glad you did. And then salute Mallory, the source of all this joy and one of the best things keeping me sane during These Trying Times.