Let's shove a tube up my banana and stuff it

Cheez Wiz, bean dip, tartar sauce

Good morning, clowns!

I hope you’re all braving the snowstorms out there, if you’re in one of those areas getting crushed right now. Chicago is really bad. We have had nonstop snow, plus the temperature outside has been brutal. The gas bill next month will just say: “Don’t bother paying us, just give us your kidneys.” Fuck this shit. Be safe, everyone.

I am really excited about today’s post, because it involves useless cooking gadgets. Useless cooking gadgets are something I have a deep passion for, because life is meaningless, so might as become like me, a kitchen nihilist hellbent on ruining a perfectly good thing. In this case, today, I’m ruining bananas.

The kitchen gadget in question is called the Banana Loca. Once I understood the purpose of this device, I realized that the world is truly an amazing place full of possibilities, nearly all of them terrible, and I ordered it immediately. A Banana Loca costs you $30, but the laughter from the concept alone is worth $31. You see, the purpose of the Banana Loca is to core and stuff a banana with the filling of your choice.

Did…did someone ask for this? Most inventions exist to solve problems. The thing I am trying to understand is why someone decided we need to stuff bananas with shit. I picture this person sitting around, eating a banana, looking at it, and saying, “I fuckin’ hate bananas. The only way this thing would be more palatable is if I shoved a bunch of life-shortening fillings into it, like rubber cement or horse poo.”

I looked off into the distance as I placed the order and said, “Dannis Ree, as the greatest food writer in all of history, try stuffing garbage into a banana and absolutely do not imagine this device being used on your peepee.”

I needed things that would be thick enough to stuff inside a banana without dribbling right out, so I went with Cheez Whiz, Fritos bean dip, and tartar sauce.

You should have seen the glee on my face when I was at the grocery store. I live for this shit. I mean, the possibilities continue to abound. I already settled on these ingredients, but now I’m kicking myself for not using cat food as a banana filling today.

The Banana Loca is an unusually complicated-looking device.

Just looking at this thing is confusing. Turns out that parts of it snap off or unscrew, so what you’re seeing is its compact configuration for storage, where many of these units will likely be after being used exactly one time.

After I disassembled it according to the instructions, Harvey and Mr. Bee gave it a once-over, saying nothing in the process.

Their silence was deafening.

The first step involves coring your banana using this sounding wand to shove up the tip of your member.

I’m sorry, I momentarily blacked out. What was I just saying?

After inserting the metal tube, you twist the corer, and using the power of suction, a thick banana noodle will be removed from the center of the banana.

Using a tamper, you’re then instructed to prod out this core, but the instructions didn’t tell me to stare blankly at the cutting board as long as I did afterwards.

This process may take a small amount of practice, because if you don’t straighten your banana enough with firm force (ouch), the curvature of it will get in the way of the corer, causing irreparable damage to your member.

Banana. I meant banana. I’m sorry, apparently I’m malfunctioning today.

The next step involves filling the reservoir with about three tablespoons of your filling of choice.

Naturally, I started with Cheez Whiz, because that’s what a mentally healthy individual immediately thinks of when they’re considering ingredients to stuff a banana with.

You’re supposed to push down the plunger until you see the filling reach the tip of the filling tube.

Look at that shy Cheez Whiz, just pokin’ its head out to say hi.

Dear God.

You need two hands to operate the Banana Loca, because if you don’t hold the banana onto the filling tube (hnnngggh), the entire thing will topple over.

So…I didn’t pay close enough attention to the instructions.

You’re supposed to push down on the filling plunger slowly until the banana pushes itself off the filling tube. Yes, you read that correctly. I accidentally held the banana on the filling tube for a little too long, when suddenly Davida and I heard a terrible ripping sound, kind of like a t-shirt being torn open. Then we saw Cheez Whiz oozing out of the side of this thing like pus out of an infected pimple. Anyone know a good trauma counselor?

As you can see, the rip introduced some air into the banana, so it wasn’t perfectly filled.

Crying with disappointment, I cut off a slice and ate it. I involuntarily laughed after I started chewing. I hate that it actually tasted pretty good, though really it was mainly because of the salt in the Cheez Whiz. I couldn’t taste the cheese too well, but who knew, I could possibly like salty bananas. It’s never too late to learn about yourself.

Next was the Fritos bean dip.

I’m actually not sure how I settled on this option. I never buy this stuff, but it cried out to me. This round with the Banana Loca went much more smoothly, and I didn’t fuck up the filling this time.

This one…was sort of a lot to process. The bean flavor with the banana was good, if not delicious, (I mean, fried plantains with a side of beans is always great), but the issue was with the texture. Once you eat through the softer banana exterior, the grainy bean core stays mostly intact. Then you’re left with a tiny coin of bean dip in your mouth that you kind of have to chew, making things get uncomfortable real quick.

Last up was tartar sauce.

It just occurred to me right this very moment that the filling receptacle looked kind of like an open toilet. This is merely a visual observation.

By simply looking at it, I knew I’d made a life-changing decision by filling a banana with tartar sauce.

Next to fried fish, tartar sauce is the best thing in the world. It’s tart, rich, and it gives your fish and chips some nice character. But the issue is, in any other context, tartar sauce is fucking disgusting. Sour mayo filled with pickle chunks in a squeeze bottle is vulgar in a way that fills me with horror. I cannot fathom eating tartar sauce with anything but fried fish.

So that being said, a banana filled with tartar sauce may actually be one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever eaten. There is absolutely nothing good I can say about this combination. Bananas are sort of slimy, which is a fact most of us just live with, so the mix with seasoned mayo (also slimy) and vinegary pickle chunks is just a recipe for total disaster. Making things worse is the lingering aftertaste, making me wonder if I’d poisoned myself. That might have actually been a better option.

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I’m emotionally spent after today. That Banana Loca is really something. If this has brought you even one milliliter of joy today, please share the crap out of it on social media (it’s the next best thing you can do for Food is Stupid other than being a paid subscriber):

And, of course, please consider being a paid subscriber, as you’ll get some ridiculous extra content (last time was the Spaghetti-O popsicle that you’ll just have to see with your own eyes), and you’ll unlock the full vault of archives through the browser version of the newsletter. It pays for things like the Banana Loca and keeps this newsletter (aka your friend Dannis), going strong.

And paid subscribers, you have a fun one dropping in your inboxes on Friday morning. Because I bought a pack of hot dogs to stuff fillings into with the Banana Loca, something I am not particularly looking forward to.

Okay. With that, stay safe and warm, and know that you are very loved. See some of you on Friday.