Bernard O'Shea: I tried the TikTok banana coffee recipe in my shed

An at-home attempt to create the viral sensation of banana coffee

Bernard O'Shea: Banana coffee may sound complex, but the recipe is pleasantly simple. A strong brew of your favourite coffee, a ripe banana, some milk, and ice are all it takes to make this viral sensation

A couple of years ago, while working as a voice-over artist for a supermarket campaign, a very talented copywriter and comedian, Gerry McBride, posed a question during a sound mix, "Has anyone ever tried bananas and salt?" That night when all the kids were asleep, I tried it. It tasted (like he said it would) "like a salty banana".

Banana coffee — an innovative, trendy delight — is the latest phenomenon born on the fertile grounds of TikTok. I've tracked countless culinary trends that have found their roots in social media platforms, from Dalgona coffee to turmeric tea. Like them, this current trend began when a humble TikTok user blended the bitter tang of coffee with the sweet banana flavour.

It's fascinating to observe how coffee has shaped our daily rituals since its birth in Ethiopia (God bless that goat). The bean transitioned from a luxurious indulgence in the 18th century to a necessity by the 20th century. In my early 20s, I worked in the Irish Underwater Archaeological Unit. My job was to scroll through thousands of shipwrecks on 'Lloyds List', a newspaper that tracked cargo worldwide. Established in 1734, 'Lloyd's List' began in Edward Lloyd's coffee shop in London, where patrons gathered for maritime news. Fast forward 300-plus years later, and coffee is still at the beating heart of everyday life. I've spilt my guts to plenty of friends about personal shipwrecks over a 'cup of Joe'.

Niles and Frasier Crane at local coffee shop, Café Nervosa

Coffee experienced a significant shift in the 1990s when it evolved from a simple morning routine to a lifestyle statement. Gone is the big jar of powered Maxwell house (which I still have a grá for), and in came lattes, cappuccinos and mochas, adding a layer of sunny Italian lilt to the most mundane purchases. 

Friends: a coffee at Central Perk

Our love affair with coffee was immortalised by the café scenes of popular sitcoms like Friends and Frasier. A couple I met from Seattle on our honeymoon a decade ago told me that people constantly look for the café that Niles and Frasier frequent — to be disappointed when they're told it's entirely fictional.

Fast forward to the present, and we're witnessing the third wave of coffee culture, which treasures speciality brews, artisanal techniques, and creative flavours like our now-infamous banana coffee.

Iced coffee has become a refreshing alternative to traditional hot brews in the vast landscape of coffee variants. Oh, how I've mocked the 'cold bottle of tae' that has been a feature of bog picnics in my childhood holidays (yes, I went to the bog on my holidays), but when you are thirsty, there's something about caffeine that hits the mark. Iced coffee has become more than a drink — it has become a cultural commodity, a hip symbol of summer.

Consuming caffeine as a cold drink offers multiple benefits. Cold variants such as iced coffee or banana coffee can be gentler on the stomach and less acidic than hot coffee. Moreover, the brewing process of most cold coffee drinks results in smoother flavours and lower caffeine content. My coffee claim to fame was tasting several varieties of coffee once with the Happy Pear twins. They were at pains to help me understand that coffee should be fruity like any other juice... but I like mine roasted to oblivion. I knew it would be a challenge for me to enjoy cold coffee, let alone one mixed with bananas.

Banana coffee may sound complex, but the recipe is pleasantly simple. A strong brew of your favourite coffee, a ripe banana, some milk, and ice are all it takes to make this viral sensation.

The second the kids saw the Nutri Bullet (I was using it to blend my new TikTok concoction), they freaked out: "No, Dad, it's too loud. We can't hear the telly." So I had to bring my ingredients out to the shed. There I was, blending to my heart's content, surrounded by the pungent twang of WD40.

I drank it straight from the plastic cup. It wasn't disgusting, but it wasn't (pardon the pun) my cup of tea. It tasted exactly like, yep, you've guessed it, bananas and coffee mixture. I hoped it would taste like cherries, or cough mixture, or some incredible new flavour, but nope, just two ingredients that fought for every inch of flavour ground.

As much as social media has infiltrated our lives all too often, what goes viral is the delusion of homemade alchemy. Ah, well, I might stick with the Maxwell House next time.