Maple Roasted Banana Ice Cream without Dairy

Roasting bananas makes for vegan ice cream yum.

Hot Banana!

I never bought David Lebovitz's ice cream book The Perfect Scoop because I'm allergic to dairy, and well. To be candid, a book brimming with rich and sexy recipes built around cream and butter and brown-eyed moo cow milk would just be, you know. Depressing as hell. I'd have to reinterpret and rebuild almost every recipe in the book to be dairy-free and huevo-free- except granita, and a sorbet or two. Yawn.

It's not easy being vegan when it comes to ice cream.

So when I browsed the book last summer, in an espresso scented Borders in Santa Fe, flipping through one forbidden recipe after another, I sniffed back a single tear, snugged the book back into its slot on the shelf and got on with my life. I'm used to it- this feeling of standing outside the glass looking in, admiring all the pastel ice creams or confetti-sprinkled whipped cream adorned cupcakes, or chocolate covered bites of buttery flaky goodness.

My life often feels like I'm living in a museum.

Look but don't touch.

And lest you think I'm feeling sorry for myself, Dear Reader, think again. I'm not. Really. I've been at this celiac thing awhile now (since December 2001). I vigorously pruned all additional allergens out of my repertoire in 2007. There's not much that rattles me. I roll with the punches and practice my best  Lebowski-zen detachment. And food is still linked with pleasure. Most of the time.

Although it took some patience and tweaking.

Tweaking of taste buds, I mean.

Luckily, we humans are adaptable. And with adaptation, change is inevitable, even if unbidden. I walk by the circular cheese display at Whole Foods now and wrinkle my nose (all I can think of if I inhale is a yellowed baby bib). Why cheese smells so unappetizing after only two plus years of not eating it, is fascinating.

The same response occurs if I cruise by the bread aisle. The smell of baked wheat is oddly sweet and sour and somehow, off. I hold my breath. I can't imagine ever eating it. Believe me when I say, I don't pine for it. I'm not singing songs of longing beneath its grainy window. I've moved on. Obviously, so has my body.

Perhaps all food is an acquired taste.

One tip I took with me from perusing The Perfect Scoop was roasting the bananas for ice cream. I knew it would kick up the flavor. I knew Mr. Lebovitz was on to something. I'm a big fan of frying bananas in a skillet for a simple dessert. I've done that for years- since my frugal art school days. Hot bananas are so sweet and gooey. Heaven. So I ask you.

Who doesn't love a hot banana?

READ MORE and get the recipe ...