A Southern Delight: Nanner Sammijes

Yep, nanner sammij, you heard it right! To those of you in the northern latitudes, I am not speaking in tongues. Nanner sammij is the correct term, pronunciation, and spelling (perhaps) for banana sandwich.

My years in elementary school were in the sixties. Only the spoiled kids had metal Roy Roger lunch boxes. Most of the kids who brought their lunch to school carried it in a brown paper bag. This made for a combination of memory-making aromas.

Nanner sammijes was the frontrunner of the aroma generators. The fruity nanner smell, the aroma of bread, and the microbial growth in the mayonnaise had a multiplied effect. Then all of that Petre dish combination was filtered through a brown bag. It makes my mouth water just thinking about it. It was a unique smell that put wrinkles on my gray matter. When I think of the lunchroom at Duck Springs Elementary School, this peculiar, yet fragrant smell returns.

The memory of that smell flings-a-cravin’ on me. I go looking for bread, a ripe but not too ripe nanner, and a big glob of Bama Mayonnaise. I don’t think Dukes had made it to northeast Alabama at the time. Or, it was more expensive than my parents would pay. Mamma always pulled out the Bama brand jar from our Frigidaire.

It’s a simple sandwich. Two slices of white bread, a good swath of mayonnaise, and sliced banana. In the South, a feud will break out if you start quarreling about slicing the banana. You only have two common options: slice the banana length wise or slice into little nanner-wheels. There was a rare method when they sliced them at an angle. This fancy method was only used by garden club women or show-offs. Our side of the ridge cut it into crosswise slices. You do you, but make sure you know where you are.

The first bite of the sammij was important. If the mayonnaise doesn’t squish out on both sides of your mouth, then you did not use enough mayonnaise. It was like Grandma dipping snuff but with the sammijes it was white. In those days no one used the term ‘mayo’ unless they were a city-slicker. Nothing like a good ole southern made nanner sammij on a hot (or cold) Alabama day.

You can also make one using peanut butter instead of mayonnaise. You need a tall glass of sweet milk to wash it down or you might choke to death. I may have a cracked vertebra from Mamma whacking me on the back when I ate one with a dry mouth.

If you are a wanna-be Pentecostal, try a nanner sammij with both mayonnaise and peanut butter. The combination of the thick peanut butter on one side of your tongue, silky mayonnaise on the other, and nanner-wheels in the middle will turn all your syllables into an unknown tongue. “Somebody say, Amen!!!”

The older I get, the more I appreciate my southern heritage. A nanner sammij is on the top ten things I adore about the South. I ate one for lunch today.

The next time I eat one, I’m going to go back in time. I will prepare it in the morning. Then I will wrap it loosely with wax paper and put it in a brown paper bag. I will place the bag next to a window where the sun will heat it up. This will put all the orbits in alignment to make the memorial fragrance of the days of old. Mamma, Mrs. Hibbs, Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Stanford, Mrs. Dick, and Mrs. Ramey would be proud.

Yours on the Journey,

Harry L. Whitt

“A merry heart does good, like medicine” (Proverbs 17:22a NKJV).