I don’t want to be a banana nazi, but…
I’m going to be a banana nazi. I went to the beach avec Yvonne yesterday, and we said hello to many small crabs, in the way that Cthulhu might say hello to you by ripping off the roof of your house and picking you up to see what colour your belly is. When we were satisfied that enough crabs had been greeted thusly, we sat on a log and enjoyed some fruit. I brought a banana. Now it has always been my contention that the proper way to peel a banana is the way that was taught to me by the venerable Tex Avery. Your first instinct may be to grab a banana by the stem (or “handle”, as I just made up) and peel it from there, but consider this: when you see a banana peel lying on the sidewalk, ready to fulfill its destiny, where is the handle? At the top, with all the peel sections radiating out. The handle is the nexus, the very hub, of the whole affair. Like this. So naturally, the way I peel a banana is from the opposite end of the handle (let’s call it the nipple end), so that should I be called upon to initiate banana gaggery, the proper esthetic may be maintained. Sad it is, then, that when people see me peeling a banana starting from the nipple end, there is no end of gasping and mockery. The short-sighted infidels!
Tickled beyond description, was I, when Yvonne peeled the banana…from which end? From the nipple end. She brought up a different (and I’ll admit – maybe a better) reason to peel from the nipple end: often when you yank on the banana handle (that’s not a euphemism) you’ll make the first bite of the banana into a bruised mushy mess. And that’s no good for anyone.
Now the question of preferred ripeness is another matter altogether, and to this end I will simply direct you to Chart 1A. My personal preference leans towards something between colour index 5 and 6. Seven is right out. Yucky poo-poo.
Meanwhile, after the beach we went to this really neato restaurant on Broadway a few blocks west of MacDonald, and it was called………………….(Yvonne? Help me out here).