The Banana Split, Latrobe, Westmoreland County

My apologies to anyone who missed a post last week. We had two and a half days of rain around here, and as my longtime readers know, my body does not take kindly to that sort of thing. I was hurting pretty badly and I just couldn't focus. But I'm back this week!

Pennsylvania, among its many claims to fame, is known as the snack food capital of the United States. It's not hard to see why, either. We're the home of Hershey, Tastykake, Middleswarth chips, Sturgis pretzels (both Julius and Tom), and a whole bunch of other companies that make many of our favorite snackies. This includes ice cream products, from outfits like Yuengling. 

There's apparently something of a mild debate about the origin of the banana split. It seems that a number of communities across the country like to claim to be where the famous sundae was invented. However, our own Latrobe has the earliest claim, and has been certified as the birthplace of the banana split by the National Ice Cream Retailers Association. My sister Liza and I visited Latrobe last autumn to pay homage to Mister Rogers, and the marker for the banana split isn't far from his.

The marker stands at 805 Ligonier Street

To understand the history of the banana split, we sort of have to look at the history of ice cream in general. Dolley Madison was serving the frozen treat in the White House during her husband's presidency; her favorite flavor was oyster, for some reason beyond my comprehension. By the middle of the 19th century, some businesses - most notably pharmacies - had installed soda counters, where young men called soda jerks (so named for the jerk motion of dispensing a soda, not because of their personalities) would serve cold drinks and ice cream novelties to customers. As the 20th century dawned, more locations began to acquire the technology needed to keep these treats at the appropriate temperatures, and the consumption became more widespread.

Another thing which happened as the 20th century approached was the greater access to fruits grown in foreign countries. In particular, bananas were shipped to the United States through the port in New Orleans and began to make their way north; by 1904, when our story really begins, they had reached the Mid-Atlantic states and were being enjoyed by the general population. 

An interesting point to note about this is that the bananas being eaten then were not the same ones that we eat now. The most common variety today is called the Cavendish banana, which is hardy and resistant to illness. Until the 1950s, the bananas that were most popularly consumed were the Gros Michel (or "Big Mike") bananas, which have a sweeter and creamier taste. If you've ever had something which claimed to be banana-flavored and wondered why it tastes nothing like a banana, that's because the flavor being reproduced is that of the Gros Michel, not the Cavendish. Unfortunately, in the 1950s most of the very delicate Gros Michel trees fell victim to what's called Panama disease, which wiped out most of the banana plantations in Central and South America. Gros Michel bananas are still grown in a few places where the disease never took hold, but they're no longer exported. Ever heard the song "Yes! We Have No Bananas"? Allegedly, the Gros Michel shortage is what inspired the lyrics.

Also, fun fact: bananas are technically berries. I did not know that until I started researching this post.

Anyway, back to Latrobe. At Tassell Pharmacy on Ligonier Street, a young man named David Evans Strickler was employed as an optometrist. In the summer of 1904, David went "down the shore," as we say around here; he took a trip to Atlantic City, where he encountered (and, we may suppose, ate) a number of different sundaes which incorporated the use of a variety of fruits. Returning to work after his vacation, he wanted to share his experiences with the people of Latrobe and started experimenting with assorted flavor combinations. His final product used a Gros Michel banana split lengthwise, hence the name. The banana halves were laid out in a dish (David later designed the glass "boat" still used today for splits) and topped with one scoop each of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream. These in turn were drizzled with marshmallow syrup; next, the vanilla scoop was topped with strawberries, the chocolate with raspberries, and the strawberry with crushed pineapple. Chopped nuts and pitted black cherries crowned the whole thing. Tassell Pharmacy's soda counter sold the sugar bombs for ten cents each, which was double the price of any of their other sundaes, and it quickly became a hit with students from the nearby Saint Vincent College. 

The treat was a runaway success; David earned enough money to buy the pharmacy and rename it Strickler's. He still ran his optometry business upstairs. In 1909 he married his sweetheart, Mary Virginia Cancie, and they had several children - Helen, Louis, Mary, William, and Nancy. David passed away in 1971 at the age of ninety; he, his wife, and many of the other Stricklers are buried in Latrobe's Unity Cemetery. His invention, meanwhile, has long outlived him.

As I mentioned in the beginning, although Latrobe's claim as the birthplace of the split is generally regarded as the correct one, there are a number of other communities which like to say the same. Most of these don't have much evidence to substantiate their claims. The closest one is Wilmington, Ohio, where Ernest Hazard created an extremely similar dessert in 1909. This is probably a coincidence, rather than a copycat; all the same, both Latrobe and Wilmington celebrate annual banana split festivals. Meanwhile, the Walgreens pharmacy chain gets the credit for helping to make the treat a national favorite, as their founder, Charles Rudolph Walgreen, adopted banana splits as the signature offering of soda counters in his Chicago-area drugstores.

Today there are literally dozens, possibly hundreds, of different recipes for banana splits and also for banana royales, which is sort of the inverse - a sundae topped with pieces of banana. Marshmallow sauce is not usually an ingredient anymore, having been commonly replaced with whipped cream. Some recipes use different flavors of ice cream, different fruit toppings, or non-fruit toppings like crushed cookies. Many people recommend pulling the ice cream out of the freezer five to ten minutes ahead of time so it's easier to scoop. Some also like to chill the glass boat.

But no matter how the split is made, one piece of advice seems to be universal: always serve it immediately after adding the last topping. A fresh banana split is the only banana split worth having.

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Sources and Further Reading:

Arnold, Shannon Jackson. Everybody Loves Ice Cream: The Whole Scoop on America's Favorite Treat. Emmis Books, 2004.

Staff writer. "90 Years of Goo: Happy Birthday, Banana Splits!" The Moline, Illinois Dispatch, October 5, 1994.

Summers, Greg. "Who is the top banana? Towns split over birthplace of banana split." The Lancaster News, July 7, 2009.

Strickler, Abigail H., et al. Stricklers of Pennsylvania: A History of the Strickler Families who emigrated from Switzerland and settled principally in Bucks, Lancaster, York, and Lebanon Counties in Pennsylvania. The Strickler Reunion Association of Pennsylvania, 1942.

David Evans Strickler at FindAGrave.com

The Banana Split  at the Historical Marker Database

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Except where indicated, all writing and photography on this blog is the intellectual property of Laura Klotz. This blog is written with permission of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission. I am not employed by the PHMC. All rights reserved.