Sunday Morning Pancakes

Today, on a whim, I made pancakes, because pancakes are fun to make.

Get your box of pancake mix, measure the amount you need, and dump it into a bowl.  Deftly crack a few eggs and plop them into the bowl.  Splash some milk in there.  Get out your hand-cranked beater and whale away, seeing if you can create a rooster tail in the mixture — or whether you’ve become a weakling wuss since the last time you made some pancakes.  Ladle big spoonfuls onto a sizzling, butter-coated frying pan and watch for the bubbles to form.  And then, the final test:  get out your spatula and see whether you have the eye-hand coordination needed to flip the pancakes over into the vacated portion of the pan.

When I was a kid, our family used to have big Sunday morning breakfasts after church, and I was in charge of the pancakes.  They may have been the first food item I ever cooked.  I made them on a big electric griddle that allowed you to make about 12 at a time.  Making pancakes was fun then, and it’s still fun now.  Today’s batch tasted pretty good, too.

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