Chunky monkey banana bread

aka malted-chocolate-walnut-banana loaf cake with charred walnut marzipan and salted malt dark chocolate Crémeux

Good morning. It's Sunday, and if you're lucky, you might have a little spare time on your hands. If so, this pre-spring baking project may interest you. I’m feeling rather nostalgic this week, so today’s cake recipe is inspired by trips to the greengrocer's with my mum and my favorite childhood treat, Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream.

I often suggest that multi-step recipes contain optional elements and additions, but today, I make no such concession. Stopping at the malted-chocolate-walnut-banana loaf cake (though I wouldn’t blame you) would be like closing a book halfway through. For this recipe, restraint has no place. If unalloyed pleasure is what you seek, follow each step with devotion and read on.

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Morning light, reluctant and pale, spills into the greengrocer’s, where winter’s last hoard sits alongside spring’s first, tentative offerings. In those early hours before school, Mum and I would weave through narrow aisles, our breath clouding the cool air, navigating this borderland of seasons - a quiet ritual marking late winter’s slow surrender to spring.

Wooden crates heaved with parsnips, carrots, and knobbled celeriac, its appearance at once intriguing and off-putting. Wild garlic might also surface in shy bundles, and if fortune favored us, the season’s first sweet asparagus spears would make an early debut. But fruit remained elusive. Blood oranges had vanished, and Yorkshire forced rhubarb, luminous pink stems blushing, were already becoming tricky to track down. Not that I minded all that much, the vegetable’s complex sharpness was lost on my young, untrained palate.

Happily, bananas endured among winter's dwindling stores. As the local March larder grew sparse, Mum, ever the resourceful cook, always threw a couple of bunches in our basket.

After those pilgrimages, returning from school later that day, I would often find the kitchen heavy with warmth, the air dense with the scent of banana cake. Vanilla curled into the corners of the room, caramelized sugar clung to the walls, and fruit collapsed into a molten, burnished sweetness. My backpack would slip from my shoulders, landing with a soft thud, as my fingers instinctively reached for a stray crumb from the still-warm cake.

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Today's offering appears simple - banana cake (or bread, or loaf, depending on your geographic allegiances). But dismiss any notions of the familiar. You've made banana cake before, undoubtedly many times, but you haven't tasted one like this. If you need persuading, read on.

This creation draws inspiration from a rare non-homemade childhood treat: the occasional pint of Ben & Jerry's that would magically appear in our freezer, like buried treasure. While Phish Food held its appeal, Chunky Monkey captured my heart completely - that velvety banana canvas generously studded with walnuts and large chocolate chunks, each spoonful a perfect composition of textures and flavors.

What you see here is a reimagining of a reimagining. Chunky Monkey was originally an ice cream riff on banana nut bread, and this offering, in turn, riffs on that. So is this recipe a reconstruction? A deconstruction squared!? Whatever the case, the essential trio remains: banana, chocolate and walnuts…but now, with adult sensibilities in mind. Like its creator, the childhood indulgence has matured, its sweetness tempered and its flavors deepened.

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The architecture of this dessert features, at its foundation, a malted chocolate and walnut banana cake - wonderful straight from the oven with a cup of coffee. On top, sits a homemade spiced walnut marzipan disc, blistered and freckled with char, smoky whispers cutting through sweetness, like a campfire treat. Finally, at its summit - a malted and generously salted dark chocolate crémeux dusted with bitter cocoa powder and crowned with caramelized bananas. For me, nothing surpasses that marriage of sweetness with a murmur of salt that makes each flavor stand taller.

70% Dark Chocolate – Buy the best you can. Valrhona is my go-to. Quality chocolate doesn’t just add flavor; it provides a backbone that lifts the entire dish, offering depth and richness.

Malted Milk Powder (or Horlicks) – Malted milk powder is a sweetened, powdered mix made from malted barley, milk, and wheat, often used to add a rich, toasty, and slightly caramelized flavor to baked goods. I like to think of this as seasoning the cake. Just like a pinch of salt can enhance a sweet dish, malted milk powder deepens the flavor of the batter, adding complexity and an almost savory depth.

Walnuts – If you can buy them pre-toasted, all the better. Toasting brings out the natural oils and intensifies their earthy flavor, which marries beautifully with banana and chocolate.

Vanilla Paste (rather than extract) – A good alternative to a vanilla pod. I generally prefer vanilla paste to extract for its richer, more nuanced flavor. I favor Nielsen-Massey for its exceptional quality.

Day-old Bananas – Soft, overripe bananas bring a caramelized sweetness. As they ripen, the sugars deepen, creating a complex flavor profile. For this recipe, the browner the skin, the better the flavor.

Kosher Salt (used in the cake) – I swear by Diamond Crystal kosher salt for its delicate, flaky texture and clean flavor. If you want to learn more about salt, Samin Nosrat’s Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat is essential reading.

Sea Salt (used in the Crèmeux) –Sea salt is ideal for the crèmeux because its clean, pure salinity doesn’t overpower the sweetness but rather provides a lovely contrast, enhancing the depth of the chocolate and balancing the richness of the custard. I use Maldon.

Spice Blend (for the marzipan) – I use a pinch of a homemade spice blend containing cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, nutmeg and mace. However, for this recipe, to keep things easy, a simple mix of cinnamon and nutmeg will do. These spices lend warmth and depth to the marzipan, enriching its flavor and complementing the sweetness of the cake.

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