Growing up, all I ever wanted was to be a normal American. The kind who ate sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies at Christmas. I admit I was a bad Italian.
But my mom grew up in Italy, so dream as I might, I knew sugar cookies would never happen. We got Italian I Guanti cookies sprinkled with sugar. We got cookies with anise, lemon or orange rind, sometimes all three, but if I wanted vanilla sugar cookies I had to sneak to the bakery.
My Aunt Blanche made one called an Italian wedding cookie that was like a moist, round knot of an iced sugar cookie and I loved it, but would my mother make them? Nope.
Mom’s favorite Christmas cookie was called a Banana Cookie. There’s not a speck of banana in them, but they’re shaped like bananas, hence the name. Actually Mom called them Annie Vinceguerra cookies because her friend, Annie baked them best. See the kind of fame one good cookie can get you in Italian baking circles?
Mom’s dough was moist and cake-like, and mine turned out more crisp and flaky than hers, because I cheated and used pie dough, but they’re delicious. They’re a little time consuming, but worth it.
Their filling is made with raisins, walnuts, chocolate chips, cinnamon, nutmeg and orange rind. (The original recipe calls for 1/2 cup of sugar, but I think you could eliminate it and they would taste fine.) Plus, these cookies are topped with coffee icing, which explains my addiction to them.
My mom’s been gone for 28 years and it’s taken me this long to finally bake her favorites.
After I baked and iced them, I thought I’d try one. Tasting them made me feel like I was home with my parents again. One cookie became two, and so on until I inhaled five of them. The pie crust texture is different, but it’s easier, so I’m all for it. One day I’ll make her original recipe, crust and all. I have a fondness for it because of the following memory.
Mom and I had already made dozens of these “Banana” cookies. (Her recipe was for three times the recipe I’m giving you.) Mom was tired that night, but knew there was a fist sized mound of dough and a cup of filling left, enough for at least ten to twelve more cookies.
I went to take cookies out of the oven and came back to my mother laughing so hard, the table was shaking. She looked up at me repentantly and revealed a gigantic cookie, the size of a large croissant. She’d made it with the rest of the dough and filling. Tears of laughter rolled out of her eyes as she said, “Don’d a worry Frenzy, your fodder (father) will eat it.”
After wrapping, baking, and icing my 30th banana cookie, I understand her exhaustion. I had filling left over because I only had two pie crusts in my freezer.
(I was thinking that if I had some Bridgeford frozen bread dough, the extra filling would be great spread on it, rolled up and baked into sweet rolls, then iced with coffee icing. Just sayin’.)
I wish you and your family a wonderful Christmas full of laughter, giant cookies and at least five seasons of your current Netflix passion. I hope your Hanukkah was great. And most of all, I pray you’ll all stay safe and healthy. To all the friends and family I won’t get to see this year, just know I am with you in spirit, especially at the cookie table. Buon Natale!
Italian Banana Cookies filled with Raisins, Chocolate Chips, Walnuts and Spice
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