Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Passing the Pancake Crown

Yes, she could do other things, too . . .

Breakfast.

One of the three best meals of the day.
And especially when one stumbled from bed into the kitchen and realized that Mom had the griddle out.
Mmmm. Pancakes.
The best of the best.
Mom's pancakes were famous.
Well in our world.
Light and fluffy and oh, so eat-able.
And when one started eating, one simply couldn't stop.
My record?
Twelve.
Dripping with butter and syrup.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.
When I started dating my Husby, I couldn't wait for him to taste my Mom's pancakes.
Fortunately for him, and his status as boyfriend without sleep-over benefits, there were times when she made them later in the day.
What is even better than breakfast for breakfast?
Breakfast for supper.
My Husby-to-be agreed that Mom's pancakes were truly remarkable.
So much so that he asked her for her recipe.
Now, you have to realize that, by this time, Mom had been making these same pancakes for nearly forty-five years.
She could do them in her sleep.
An important skill first thing in the morning.
But I digress . . .
“Hmm,” she said, frowning thoughtfully. “Sure I can give you the recipe.”
She then proceeded to list ingredients and amounts.
As she had been adding them for decades.
“A couple of scoops of flour. Eggs. Sugar. This much salt.” She held up finger and thumb pinched together. “A couple of cake spoons of baking powder. Milk to make it batter-y.”
My Husby-to-be was frantically scribbling, a slight frown between his brows. When he was done, he stared at what he had written. “Ummm . . . okay,” he said doubtfully.
And he went home and tried them.
Adjusted ingredients and tried again.
And again.
For over 38 years, he has been struggling to get it right.
He's still not there.
And Mom took the original recipe with her when she passed on.
Sigh.
I love pancakes.
I miss my Mom.

P.S. I'd give you the recipe, but it's a work in progress. I'll let you know . . .

14 comments:

  1. Hahaha! Wonderful story and so true. I have an old cake recipe that starts, "shortening the size of an egg" - your mom's instructions go a step further than that! As I get older I notice I'm getting less "measure-y" and stuff is still edible :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I once called my mom a 'dump cook'. She got quite indignant and stated, "I'm a good cook!" That was what I meant! Dump. Dump. Dump. Stirrrr. CAKE! :)

      Delete
  2. Thank goodness my Moms recipe was 'measurey'....I don't do well with a pinch of this and a dollop of that.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I don't either. I need my recipes and my measuring implements.

      Delete
  3. Awww...what a wonderful story. My hubby makes delicious pancakes too - also without a recipe!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Maybe we should get these two together . . .

      Delete
  4. Sugar? Salt?
    Baking powder I understand, for the fluffiness. I skip that and just use self-raising four.
    Pancakes from my kitchen are just SR flour, eggs and milk, served with butter and syrup of course. Although sometimes served with a squeeze of lemon juice and sprinkled with sugar, and one person I know slathers them with butter then showers them with cinnamon-sugar mix.

    ReplyDelete
  5. In my mother-in-law's kitchen, this was known as a "schit recipe"--not nearly as rude as it sounds. It's Yiddish for "you now the ingredients but you never measure them." Yiddish is a great language! :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Every time someone says something in Yiddish, I think it sounds so cool. And effective!

      Delete
  6. I hope your husband remains persistent - and that you share the recipe when he masters it! Sounds like you had a wonderful Mom.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. She was amazing. And I definitely will! :)

      Delete
  7. I used to make the hubby chocolate chip pancakes years ago. When I got sick all my tastes changed now the smell of maple syrup makes me sick. Hubby is left with Cracker Barrell as his only option!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Isn't that odd how changes in physiology change so many other things? My Husby was always the mosquito magnet. We'd sit him at one side of the yard and the rest of us would enjoy the outing. When he got sick, his blood chemistry must have changed. Mosquitoes avoid him. But now they like me. Sigh.

      Delete

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