I almost ruined a Charlotte date over banana pudding. Is the way I eat it that bad?
As we sat on the patio at Soul Gastrolounge on a mild Wednesday evening, picking through small plates, my date glared at me with a brief but unmistakable look of judgment after I confessed my preferred way of eating banana pudding.
My grandmother makes the best banana pudding. A few days before every big holiday, she would call to tell me she was “making my favorite,” which was my cue to save room for dessert.
There were a few times where she made the banana pudding the day of, meaning it was fresh.
“Get as much as you want, baby,” she’d say with a smile. “Anything for my favorite grandson.”
I’m also her only grandson, which meant more banana pudding for me.
A familiar dessert in unfamiliar forms
Banana pudding is a Southern specialty that comes in many forms.
The traditional route is a layered, chilled banana pudding — vanilla pudding, sliced bananas and Nilla Wafers, topped with whipped cream or meringue. But from there, things branch out quickly.
You’ll see it turned into banana pudding parfaits, served in jars or cups with extra layers, sometimes with crushed cookies or caramel. Some bakeries go richer with banana pudding cheesecake.
Then there’s the over-the-top stuff: banana pudding milkshakes (the one at Cook Out is delicious), ice cream or soft-serve swirled with cookie crumbles.
But I like mine warm.
Defending my stance
“Warm banana pudding is an option?” my date asked, almost as if that was a dealbreaker.
Instead of the traditional chilled layers, the pudding is baked or gently heated so the custard stays loose and creamy, the bananas melt slightly into the mix and the cookies soften into a cake-like texture. The result is less structured than the classic version but more decadent, with a comfort-food feel that leans almost bread pudding-adjacent.
I explained all of that to him, but he didn’t look convinced. He said he had never had warm banana pudding.
We moved on to another topic, but I kept thinking about it for a while after.
“That might have been strike two,” I thought to myself, after nearly messing up our first date when someone used my debit card for sports betting. Still, he hasn’t blocked my number yet, so I’m counting it as a small victory.
In the meantime, I will keep eating warm banana pudding. Thanksgiving can’t come soon enough.
