One very cold Christmas Eve, three years ago, I was pulling my last batch of cookies out of the oven when I spoke with my sister on the phone. She informed me that my brother in law was on the way to pick me up, as it had started snowing and was really starting to stack up. Life was going wonderfully - I had more time due to a part time job, and was loving my time at home cooking, and the opportunity to spend time with my sister and brother in law, and especially my nieces. But because I was reliant on others for a ride (I sold my car a month earlier, one week after quitting my corporate job of nearly 11 years) which meant I was reliant on others for transportation. My brother in law would be at my door in just five minutes, and I had yet to gather the gifts and my overnight bag!

My childhood was full of delicious, gooey-topped sweetly satisfying banana bread. In college, I became an avid baker (of sweet treats), and banana bread was my go-to. Any night I needed a "fix" or some tasty treat (which I frequently called breakfast...) this familiar quick-bread was there to keep me moving while running around like... well, college student chasing good grades, too many extra-curriculars, and a part-time job.