Souffléd Bananas

Bananes soufflées (souffléd bananas) teach the central truth of every hot Soufflé: the air goes in last, and the dish goes into the oven at once. Banana gives perfume and body, but it also gives weight. Fold the whites late and gently or no rise comes; that is the one true thing to know before touching the pan.

The original entry assumed a pastry station with appareil à soufflé à la crème (cream soufflé base) already made, a fine sieve ready, and an oven holding fierce heat through service. At home, the honest equivalent is a small roux built with butter and cream in one saucepan, a fully preheated ordinary oven, and four bananas instead of a service platter's worth. The ready base was brigade scaffolding, so it goes; the sieve, the late-folded whites, the star of filled skins, and the six-minute bake are the dish, so they stay. One cook, one stove, one evening.

Done well, the peels darken slightly while cream-gold crowns swell above them, tender at the center and fragrant enough to announce themselves across the table. The decisive moment comes after the whites reach their peaks: fold only until the large white pockets disappear, fill the skins at once, and keep that oven door shut.