Episode: Johnny Bravo
Deep Fried Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich
More often than I’d like to admit, I’ve released my inner Johnny Bravo on the unsuspecting world. I’ll say or do something Johnny-ish and my sister will immediately turn to me and say, “No more Johnny Bravo for you.” I can’t help it. It left quite the impression on me since I saw it on What A Cartoon! I felt like all of those shorts that went on to become Cartoon Cartoons were made just for me. (Forget all the popularity and demographic mumbo jumbo. They were made for ME and only ME.) There were so many things that went right over my head, but I didn’t care. That’s why now I appreciate quality shows with multiple levels. I hardly got any of Johnny Bravo‘s pop culture references, but I still enjoyed them. I wouldn’t love Donny Osmond as much as I do if I hadn’t seen him on the show. Sad but true.
And how can I not want to be Johnny Bravo? (Or Jenny Brava in my case.) In his own way, Johnny is kind of a good role model. Not the vain, meat-headed, pig side of him. That’s bad. (There’s something up with those sunglasses.) What I’m talking about is Johnny’s self-confidence. I want to get up every morning, look in the mirror, and have to call emergency personnel because I look that good. And he can deliver the goofiest pickup lines with ease because he truly believes in himself. Then when he’s crushed (literally) his confidence only wavers for a moment, if at all. He’s good. I mean, he’s the kind of guy that can break into song, pull a pot of hot oil out of nowhere, make a peanut butter and banana sandwich, and deep fry that bad boy in seconds. Sure, that’s probably because he’s a cartoon character, but I’d like to believe that that’s just one of Johnny’s superpowers. I can make a deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwich too, but it’s going to take me a couple minutes. And I can’t fry a thing with that kind of finesse. I better get practicing.
So, Johnny just plops a sandwich into the hot oil. That’s fine and dandy, but if I do that, all I end up with is soggy bread without a trace of peanut butter left inside. To protect the sandwich, it’s getting a nice coating of batter first.
Recipe makes 2 sandwiches.
4 slices of bread
4 tablespoons peanut butter (You can add more if you want but beware of leakage.)
1-2 large bananas (Depends on how much banana you like.)
Vegetable Oil for Frying
½ cup milk
1 egg, beaten
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
½ cup flour
1 teaspoon sugar
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
I know everyone has their own way of making sandwiches, so do what you need to make peanut butter and banana sandwiches. You can spread 1 tablespoon of peanut butter onto each slice of bread. Slice the banana in half, lengthwise, or into about ¼ inch slices. Lay either both banana halves or about half of the slices on one piece of bread. Top that with the second slice of bread.
In a small bowl, combine the milk, egg, and vanilla extract. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add the wet ingredients and whisk until a smooth batter of dippable consistency forms. If you want it thinner, add more milk.
Putting It All Together:
Preheat oil in a large pot/deep skillet or in a deep fryer to 350 degrees F.
Dip the sandwich into the batter and coat thoroughly. Allow the excess batter to drip off and use tongs to move it to the hot oil.
Fry the sandwich until golden brown on each side, 2-2 ½ minutes. Drain the sandwich on paper towels and repeat with the second sandwich. Serve warm!
I understand that the zookeeper had a lot on her mind since a 900-pound gorilla escaped, but if I’m offered a deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwich, I’ll happily take it. Well, you probably shouldn’t take food from strangers, but I’d take one from Johnny. He was only trying to impress a pretty girl, but he went searching for the gorilla even though he had no idea what one looks like. His heart’s in the right place. It’s the Bravo brain that needs help.
Tune in next week for more Cartoon Cravings!