Banoffee Pie
December 9
Have you ever tried it? I’d give it about a one in twenty chance that you have. I have. And I want another taste.
Way back in 2007 or so, my Brilliant Wife — no, really, she is — who otherwise proudly sports her relatively poor knowledge of popular culture with a disturbing pride, managed to scrape together a hankering to try this very-Londoner dessert. She decided this based on a very obscure and minor movie reference from about 2004. As such, when we visited London a couple years back she (in fact) sourced us a small bit to taste and (maybe only due to the whole wanting-the-unobtainable thing) I’ve been craving banoffee pie ever since.
It is difficult to find in Canada. I’m sure it exists somewhere locally. I had it served at a hotel buffet when I was in Ontario earlier this year. And surely we’re not the only nut cakes who think it’s an awesome bit of sweet.
My interest could also be a direct result of my love of all things banana, a fault (or so I’m often told by the aforementioned Brilliant Wife) that is directly due to a penicillin allergy that spared me any over-exposure to banana-flavored medication in childhood and left intact my relatively fond memories of wafting artificial banana odors. Call me strange if you will. I don’t mind.
Our search has not been fruitless, of course. Numerous banoffee pie recipes are available online. But there has always been a bit of a hitch. One of the main ingredients is a milk-based derivative that has tended to pose a bit of a hurdle: a can of sweetened condensed milk, BUT in fact, but not just any can. The recipe calls for a can of sweetened condensed milk that has been prepared just so: cooked in its own can for a long, slow caramelization and gooed into a thick brown, sweet syrup not entirely unlike — well — caramel.
So? You ask. Big deal. Well, you see the problem is two fold: cooking the can of milk has always involved one of two processes that is either (a) long and time-consuming — I mean hours and hours, here — or (b) destructively explosive. Slowly boiling a can of anything (as oft warns many-a-banoffee pie recipe) has the potential to literally blow up in your face.
That doesn’t mean those plans have been off the table. Just — no pun intended — put on the back burner for a while.
Enter Superstore (TM). I don’t usually shop there, but it’s not because I’m adverse to it. There is just no Superstore (TM) convenient to where I live. But Superstore (TM) — well known locally for their President’s Choice Brand products — have recently introduced a small line of Latin American dessert spreads. In particular they have started selling something called Dulce de Leche Caramel Creme Spread, cited for use as a topping for waffles and toast. Also, and far more importantly, cited (in numerous recipes) for preferred use in banoffee pie as the alternative to the aforementioned exploding milk concoction. In fact, the milk goo is (apparently) the poor man’s substitute in those recipes where no Dulce de Leche is to be found.
And as of two days ago I have enough Dulce de Leche in my pantry to bake two whole banoffee pies. Do I sound excited yet?
Hurdle — if only two-pie temporarily — leaped. And very soon that Brilliant Wife and I will likely be enjoying some homemade banoffee goodness. Ahhh….









Had I known your quest for Banoffee had been so fruitless, I would have mentioned this earlier: I believe that Urban Diner (125 st/102 Ave) often, if not always, has Banoffee Pie on the menu.
Well, admittedly, I may have made the quest seem a little more epic than it is… But that’s still good to know. Thanks.
I understand your quest. We discovered Banoffee pie this summer, the best version was found in a small pub in a small village that I cannot even remember the name. It was pure heaven and I am afraid that nothing will ever match it! And you are right it is an epic quest!
[...] Three things have prompted me to give readers a bit of an update on the banoffee pie saga I wrote about here a little more than a month ago. [...]