Bananas are big in Kerala. I wish I had caught photos of the many small stands selling bananas — green, yellow, short, long, piled in bins, hanging from the ceiling — that we passed as we drove through the state. After we crossed the border from Tamil Nadu state, our driver, Vasanth, pulled over and got us a couple of bananas. One was normal looking; the other looked like it was covered with mold. We wondered if there had been a mistake.

But when we tasted the “moldy” banana, its flavor was incredible — floral, winey, wild. It was a banana on another plane. The other one was good, but it was within the ordinary realm of bananas.

On my last stop in India, Trivandrum, I managed to visit a banana-chip shop. There were two on the same block, just tiny storefronts with huge piles of golden chips — jackfruit as well as banana — and a scale in front, jumbo-sized pre-packed cellophane bags in the back. Finally, the guy manning one of the stands caught my eye and beckoned me over. Did I want a kilo of chips? No. Did I want jackfruit as well as banana? No. He was pretty good-natured in his salesmanship, though, and eventually I succeeded in buying just a small bag of banana chips. Freshly fried in coconut oil (still warm as he scooped them into my bag), they were light and starchy, more like the smashed fried plantains of Caribbean restaurants than the sweeter banana chips I’m used to. Which, to be honest, I still prefer.