It is time for dessert. I walk past a plaque on my kitchen wall. Lito Lupón, the faded old letters spell out. I'm probably the best chef in Bordeaux. But no Michelin stars grace my walls, no awards and no obvious recognition shall ever be bestowed upon my achievements.
I change the cutlery, and serve.
Dessert is a delightful confection of ripe bananas rolled in Chinese egg wrappers and deep-fried to a crunch. The sweet sauce is an easy-to-make blend of melted butter, brown sugar and rendered fat from my freezer-dwelling proverbial hunk of meat. I delight in watching my guests tremble in anticipation. My hands arrange the banana rolls on their dessert plates and I drizzle the sauce over them, forming a rich, salty-sweet coating visually highlighted by the bright yellow streaks of the youn
