By Competition season planning. The first event of 2018 is the Phoenix Flame BBQ Classic in March — a new competition I haven't done before, brisket and ribs categories. If I place in two events, I qualify for state again. I've been doing practice cooks on weekends, fitting them between Diego's nap schedule and Sofia's activities, which means my cooking window is approximately 5 AM to 1 PM on Saturdays. This is not ideal for a fourteen-hour brisket cook. But I've adapted by starting the brisket Friday night — lighting the fire at midnight, wrapping at dawn, pulling at noon. Jessica calls this schedule "unhinged." I call it "determined." The line between the two is thinner than she realizes.
The practice briskets have been good. My technique has matured — I'm more consistent now, less anxious about every temperature fluctuation. The rub is locked: salt, coarse black pepper, a whisper of garlic powder. The wood is always mesquite. The wrap is butcher paper at the stall. The rest is ninety minutes in a cooler. What's different this year is my confidence. Last year I was trying to prove I belonged. This year I know I belong. The difference changes everything — the way I trim, the way I manage the fire, the way I plate. Confidence doesn't change the food. It changes you. And you're the one making the food.
Diego is six months old and has developed opinions. Strong opinions. About food, specifically. He loves sweet potato. He loves avocado. He loves mango. He hates peas. He expresses his hatred of peas by pressing his lips together, turning his head, and — if you persist — spitting the peas across the room with a velocity that suggests either powerful lungs or a future in competitive eating. I respect his boundaries while also believing that peas are nutritionally important and he will learn to eat them. This is a war of attrition. I'm patient. He's six months old. I have time.
Valentine's Day is next week. Year Three of the tradition. Last year I made scallops and filet mignon and Jessica told me she was pregnant. This year the bar is high. I'm planning lamb chops — thick-cut, herb-crusted, seared in a cast iron skillet and finished with a red wine reduction. Side: roasted fingerling potatoes with rosemary. Dessert: crème brûlée, because I've never made it and because attempting something new on a high-stakes occasion is either brave or stupid and I prefer brave.
I’m out here planning a fourteen-hour brisket cook that starts at midnight and mapping out a Valentine’s Day crème brûlée I’ve never attempted, and yet the hardest culinary challenge in my house right now is a six-month-old who will spit peas at you with genuine conviction. I needed a win at that little high chair, and these three-ingredient banana pancakes delivered one—Diego lights up for them the same way he lights up for mango, which in his current emotional vocabulary means pure approval. No rub, no stall, no butcher paper wrap required—just a banana, two eggs, and something resembling a pan and a plan.
3-Ingredient Banana Pancakes
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2 (about 6 small pancakes)
Ingredients
- 1 ripe medium banana (the spottier, the better—more sweetness, less fight)
- 2 large eggs
- 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon (optional, but recommended)
- Coconut oil or butter, for the pan
Instructions
- Mash the banana. In a small bowl, peel and mash the banana thoroughly with a fork until no large lumps remain. You want a smooth-ish puree—large chunks will cause the pancakes to fall apart in the pan.
- Add the eggs. Crack both eggs directly into the mashed banana and whisk together until fully combined. The batter will be thin and a little loose—that’s normal. Stir in cinnamon if using.
- Heat your pan. Warm a non-stick skillet or griddle over medium-low heat. Add a small amount of coconut oil or butter and let it melt and coat the surface evenly. Low and slow is the move here—these burn faster than a regular pancake.
- Cook the pancakes. Pour or spoon batter into small rounds, about 2–3 inches in diameter. Cook for 1 to 2 minutes until the edges look set and the bottom is lightly golden. Flip gently with a thin spatula and cook another 60 to 90 seconds. Do not rush the flip—if they’re not ready to release, they’re not ready to flip.
- Cool and serve. Transfer to a plate and allow to cool slightly before serving to a baby. For older kids and adults, serve warm with a drizzle of honey or a few fresh blueberries on top.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 120 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 13g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 65mg