QUICK REMINDER:

While we have provided a jump to recipe button, please note that if you scroll straight to the recipe card, you may miss helpful details about ingredients, step-by-step tips, answers to common questions and a lot more informations that can help your recipe turn out even better.

I believe dessert is a personality trait and also a very good excuse to avoid phone calls. Also: mash things, then pretend it was a plan. There’s a cultural moment happening — we are all nostalgic for banana things (thanks, pandemic-era baking?) — and yes, that includes this chaotic hybrid I insist on calling Banana Bread Brownies because why choose when you can have both? If you’re into mash-ups (and clearly you are, since you’re here), you’ll get it.

How I ruined a pan and learned what not to do

Oh man. There was a day when my kitchen smelled like burnt sugar and poor life choices — literally like something between a campfire and a gas station muffin. I tried to make these once with wet bananas (the ones that leaked regret) and used baking chocolate like a toddler uses glue: enthusiastically and without measuring. The texture? Think spongy yet dense, like someone collapsed a marshmallow factory inside a pound cake. There was also a tearing sound — not from the oven, from me trying to pry the pan open because apparently brownies adhere to metal out of spite.

I stood in my pajamas listening to the oven beep like a tiny, judgmental robot. The first batch tasted oddly of overripe banana and not enough cocoa (who knew you could under-chocolate something?). Embarrassing detail: I spilled some batter on the counter and later found it, fossilized, like a prehistoric snack. I blamed the bananas. Then I blamed myself. Then I blamed the non-stick. Then I almost cried. (Which is a lot for a dessert I ate three days later for breakfast.) Also — side note — if you like cookie hybrids, try my banana bread chocolate chip cookies for when you want cookies pretending to be cake. That batch was better. Not that I’m keeping score.

Why this version finally behaves itself

What changed? Mostly me. And the butter. Also technique. I stopped overworking the batter (my hands were twitchy) and I gave up on trying to engineer a soufflé from overripe bananas. Emotionally I accepted that these are supposed to be a little fudgy, a little crumbly — the point is comfort, not architectural integrity. Practically: measuring, folding, and small, decisive decisions like using half cocoa and not the whole cocoa drawer.

This version works because it respects chaos but contains it — like a tiny leather jacket for banana bread? I’m embarrassingly proud of it and also wary, because recipes are like relationships: good until they’re not, and then you make another batch to make up for it. Banana Bread Brownies show up moist but not soggy, chocolatey without erasing the banana, and forgiving if you forget to preheat for, like, 30 seconds. Confidence plus lingering doubt equals perfection, right? Probably not. But it eats well.

Ingredients

2 ripe bananas, mashed
1/3 cup melted butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1/2 cup chocolate chips (optional)

I mean, feel free to use slightly more chocolate if you are in a committed relationship with chocolate. Budget-friendly, forgiving on texture, and realistic for grocery-store availability (I buy bananas like I hoard pens). Also: bananas with a few brown spots are ideal — don’t be fancy. And if you want something fluffier later, check out this decadent banana cinnamon rolls I made when I was pretending carbs weren’t a mood.

Cooking Unit Converter

If you’re the type who panics at fractional cups, there’s an easy tool to translate everything into weights and smaller measurements.

How to make them (and how I narrate my life while baking)

Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease a 9×9 inch baking pan.
In a mixing bowl, combine the mashed bananas and melted butter.
Stir in the sugar, egg, and vanilla.
Mix in the baking soda and salt.
Gradually add the flour and cocoa powder, mixing until just combined.
Fold in chocolate chips if using.
Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan and spread evenly.
Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Let cool before cutting into squares and serving.

Also — don’t overmix. Seriously, it ruins the joyful inconsistency I worked so hard to achieve. If you want gooey centers, err on the shorter bake; if you want firm squares for the lunchbox, give it a couple extra minutes (but not too many, please). And while you’re stirring, maybe call your mom or text someone dramatic about the price of avocados. It helps.

Okay, but are you serious — do people actually eat this for breakfast?

Do you wake up and immediately consider your moral alignment? Me too. Do you ever throw a square of these on a plate and tell yourself it’s a muffin? That’s the correct decision. Who says brownies can’t be breakfast-adjacent if they have bananas? Also, tell me about your oven quirks. Do you have one that runs hot like it’s trying to win a prize? Do you aggressively stir things at 11 p.m. because why not? You’re nodding. I can hear it. Share your disasters and I will match them with mine and we will form a support group that serves dessert.

Can I substitute oil for butter? +

Yes, you can, but butter gives a flavor I’m emotionally attached to. Oil works if you want softer crumb — I’ve done it on nights I forgot to take butter out.

How ripe should the bananas be? +

Spotty with personality. Brown-speckled is ideal. If they’re black and whispering, you’ve gone too far (or you’ve got banana jam, which is also a thing).

Can I freeze these? +

Absolutely. Wrap squares tightly and freeze for up to two months. Thaw on the counter or in a low oven and pretend you planned ahead.

Why did my batch come out cakey? +

Probably overmixing or too much flour (it happens like a bad plot point). Measure properly and fold gently — less is more.

Are the chocolate chips necessary? +

Nope. But are they emotionally necessary? Sometimes. They’re optional in the recipe but mandatory for certain moods.

I make food to feel something, which is probably not the most practical life plan, but here we are. These brownies are my compromise between responsibility and joy; they travel to potlucks disguised as sanity. And if you try them and they flounder, write me and I’ll tell you a story about the time I attempted bread in a rice cooker. Or I’ll just send pictures. Wait did I put on pants today or am I still in flour?