Slow-Cooker Piña Colada Bananas Foster

Elijah is eighteen months. A year and a half. The baby who was born during COVID is a toddler who runs, climbs, talks (twenty-ish words, heavy on demands: mo, mine, go, no, up, down, DA, mama, cat, and — new this week — "NANA" for Lorraine, which Mama received with the composure of a woman who has been called many things but has been waiting for this one). NANA. The word that means: you are mine. You are the woman who holds me every day while my mother works and my father is in Atlanta and you are NANA and you have a name that I gave you and the name is yours.

Mama heard "Nana" and she sat down. She sat down in her kitchen chair and she held Elijah and she said: "Say it again." He said: "Nana." She said: "Again." He said: "NANA." Three times. The word, three times. Each time louder, clearer, more certain. The baby knows who she is. The baby has named her. The naming is the gift. The naming is the proof that eighteen months of holding and feeding and singing and knitting and porch-dropping food during a pandemic and sitting in a parking lot at 3 AM — all of it was seen. All of it was absorbed. All of it became a word. NANA. Lorraine Mitchell, who gave up her name to become Mama and then Grandma and now Nana, sat in her kitchen with a toddler on her lap and cried the way women cry when they are given something they didn't know they were waiting for.

School is in full swing. Jayden has a spelling test every Friday. His words this week: cat, hat, sat, bat, mat. He studied by writing each word ten times (Mr. Collins' method) and then reading them to Blaze, who listened with the polite indifference of a cat who does not spell but appreciates being included. The studying-to-the-cat method: surprisingly effective. Jayden got 5/5. The cat takes partial credit.

Chloe's home ec unit happened. She was, by all accounts, helpful and restrained. She did not correct the teacher. She did not announce that she could make hollandaise. She helped her classmates crack eggs ("some of them had NEVER cracked an egg, Mama") and she demonstrated knife skills when the teacher asked if anyone had experience. The teacher called me: "Mrs. Mitchell, Chloe's culinary knowledge is remarkable for her age. Has she had formal training?" I said: "She's been in the kitchen since she could stand. And she went to cooking camp this summer." The teacher said: "She helped three students who were struggling. She's a natural teacher." A natural teacher. The cook who teaches. The line that extends forward AND sideways — not just to the next generation but to anyone who needs to learn. Earline taught Lorraine. Lorraine taught me. I taught Chloe. Chloe is teaching her classmates. The line is a web now. The line is everywhere.

I made banana pudding — the from-scratch kind, Nilla wafers, vanilla custard, sliced bananas, whipped cream. The celebration pudding. Because Elijah said "Nana" and the word deserves pudding. Some words are big enough to require dessert. Nana is one of them.

Elijah said “Nana,” and I made pudding — but the truth is, I’ve been making banana desserts every time this family hands me something I don’t quite have words for myself. Bananas are Lorraine’s fruit; she’s been slicing them into things since before I was born. So when I wanted to share this recipe — the one that carries that same warmth, that same sense of “something good is happening here” — this slow-cooker piña colada bananas foster felt exactly right: it’s a little celebratory, deeply easy, and the kind of thing you make when someone has just been named. Let the slow cooker do the work. You’ve got a toddler to hold.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 2 hrs | Total Time: 2 hrs 10 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

4 ripe bananas, peeled and sliced into 1-inch rounds
1 can (8 oz) crushed pineapple, drained
1/2 cup coconut cream
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons dark rum (optional, but encouraged)
Vanilla ice cream, for serving
Toasted sweetened coconut flakes, for garnish
Maraschino cherries, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Prep the slow cooker. Lightly coat the inside of a 3- to 4-quart slow cooker with nonstick cooking spray.
Layer the fruit. Add the sliced bananas to the bottom of the slow cooker in an even layer. Scatter the drained crushed pineapple over the top.
Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the coconut cream, brown sugar, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and nutmeg until the sugar is mostly dissolved. Pour evenly over the fruit.
Add butter and rum. Dot the top with the butter pieces and drizzle the rum over everything, if using.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 2 hours, until the sauce is bubbling and thickened and the bananas are very tender. Do not cook on HIGH — the bananas will turn mushy.
Stir gently and serve. Using a large spoon, gently fold the fruit and sauce together once. Spoon warm over scoops of vanilla ice cream. Top with toasted coconut flakes and a cherry if you’re feeling festive — and you should be.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Cooker Piña Colada Bananas Foster — Because “Nana” Is a Word That Deserves Dessert