In praise of the banana

Perfection. Whether it’s Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, the Gettysburg Address, a ‘59 Coupe DeVille, or the 1980 U.S. Olympic Hockey team, it is as elusive as it is subjective. As I move into my sixth decade, I find myself looking at seemingly small things and realizing that they aren’t small at all. In doing so, it has recently occurred to me that there are few things quite as perfect in life as the lowly banana.

With its mild, sweet flavor, the banana lends itself more to dessert dishes than savory. The banana split, Bananas Foster and banana bread (the last stop for overripe bananas) lead the pack, along with milkshakes, muffins and frozen bananas, most often dipped in chocolate.

In my home, we also use it as a garnish on curry dishes or most anything else with a strong, spicy flavor that could use a touch of sweetness for balance. Of course, my favorite use for the banana is as a guilt-free snack. On its own and without preparation, the banana is packed with potassium, vitamin C, dietary fiber and antioxidants. The consumption of bananas is associated with reduced heart and degenerative diseases, and kidney health and is known to reduce muscle cramps and soreness after exercise.

Of course, the banana comes in a unique package. I don’t know how much money Coors spent to make the mountains turn blue when a can of beer is chilled, but nature has provided the banana, like many fruits, with an advanced freshness indicator on the outside of the package. Just as we can order steaks anywhere from rare to well-done, we can watch our bananas for our preferred coverage of spots, which indicate the amounts of starch and sugar to be found inside the package.

The bananas that we purchase in grocery stores, like 99% of the bananas available worldwide, are all members of the Cavendish variety that was first cultivated in the 1830s by Sir Joseph Paxton in the greenhouses of Chatsworth House in Chesterfield, England. The Chatsworth estate is occupied by the Duke of Devonshire, known by the family name, “Cavendish.”

It’s no news flash to report that our beloved Cavendish is facing extinction due to a creeping “Panama” fungal disease, against which the Cavendish has no natural defenses. The problem is well-publicized and we have seen it coming for many years now. Part of the challenge facing our Cavendish is that it is technically “sterile.” As a seedless fruit, all reproduction takes place through clippings from a donor plant or cloning. The bananas we eat today are genetically identical to those developed at Chatsworth in the 1830s, and reproduction by cloning does not allow the gradual, generational buildup of natural defenses to disease as would happen in a natural, evolutionary process.

Interestingly, the Cavendish itself was a replacement for another variety of banana that was also attacked by a fungal disease. The “Gros Michel” (big Mike) banana was our primary banana before it met a similar fate in the 1950s. It is said that the Gros Michel was larger and more flavorful and that the artificial banana flavorings available today are modeled after the Gros Michel, rather than our current Cavendish.

It should be noted that a version of the Cavendish that is resistant to the Panama fungus has been developed and is ready to plant, but it was developed using gene modification that does not comply with European non-GMO standards. With an anxious eye on the clock, Botanists continue to search for a Cavendish replacement that will withstand the Panama fungus, comply with non-GMO requirements and be suitable for large-scale monoculture.

Although the banana is native to tropical Asia, the widespread cultivation of the fruit for North American consumption takes place in Central America and the northern reaches of South America, where it has played a significant role in political events. In the early 20th century, the advent of refrigerated trucks and railcars enabled the sale of tropical fruit beyond the tropics and throughout an ever-growing United States. An insatiable demand followed, and from that economic windfall, three large fruit companies emerged; United Fruit Company, Vaccaro Brothers and the Cuyamel Fruit Company. The Vaccaro Brothers eventually became the Standard Fruit Company, which we now know as Dole. The Cuyamel Fruit Company was absorbed by the United Fruit Company, and it is now known to us as Chiquita.

Dole, Chiquita and their predecessors, the oligarchs of their day, became wealthy and powerful enough to begin assuming responsibility for functions usually fulfilled by national governments. Highways, railroads, financial and telecommunications networks were built and maintained by the fruit companies. In short, the companies began exerting operational control over the national governments. In the interest of preserving U.S. assets in the region, the United States began weighing in on regional politics, propping up dictators who were friendly to United States’ interests and in at least one case, backing a forcible regime change.

U.S, intervention in the region took place from the Teddy Roosevelt Administration up through the Eisenhower years and is generally regarded by historians as not being among our better foreign policy achievements. Detractors will say that American involvement in the politics of Central America was the face of American Imperialism and that our military-backed kleptocratic dictators who, in combination with American corporations, exploited Central American labor and left impoverished nations in its wake. Others, who hold a more forgiving view of U.S. interventions and our protection of foreign interest, also admit that we may have backed some unsavory characters rather than cede a country to communist influences.

The banana, of course, also plays a role in our culture. During the silent film era, physical comics like Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd had fun with the popular trope of slipping on a banana peel, Theodore Roosevelt, before he was a President, or even a Governor, recognized banana slippage as a legitimate problem when, as New York City’s Chief of Police, Roosevelt encouraged enforcement of a law that made it a misdemeanor to discard a banana peel on the street. Roosevelt said, “The bad habits of the banana skin, dwelling particularly on its tendency to toss people into the air and bring them down with terrific force on the hard pavement.”

There is much to experience in that little, curved package: history, politics, science, nutrition and flavor. It’s ironic, but the fruit that has become a euphemism for mental illness (as in, “she’s bananas”) and has an admittedly troubled political past, is packed with health and flavor and is shaped like a smile.