The bananas had gone past. There were three of them on the counter, black-freckled and soft, and the question of whether to make banana bread wasn’t a question so much as a thing I was pretending not to have already decided. I folded chocolate chips in because my mom always did, and because my husband will eat a whole slice if it has chocolate in it and will nibble politely if it doesn’t. Fair trade. I took a picture of the loaf before I let him near it.
Chocolate-chip banana bread
