It’s the beginning of September which means back to school time, heavy traffic, and cool mornings. So I decided to write about lighter fare this week for a change of pace. If light and fluffy pancakes don’t tickle your fancy, don’t worry, we’ll be back to regular programming next week.
Every now and then, I have a hankering for pancakes. Not often, maybe once or twice a year. And not the kind from a pancake mix, but from scratch. Where you separate the egg whites from the yolks, where you slowly mix the dry ingredients in with the wet, where you beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks and gently fold them into the batter…you get the picture.
So I drag out the recipe book and get to work. It takes a fair amount of preparation, a lot of dishes, and a lot of time. Keep in mind, I was an accountant so measuring and following the recipe precisely and having the exact ingredients on hand is how I operate in the kitchen. My husband, on the other hand, just looks in the fridge and throws together a meal. He rarely follows a recipe and when he does, well, it’s loosely based and, in my opinion, falls under the category of “why even pretend to follow a recipe”. In fact that’s exactly how he wooed me. On our second date, he showed up at my door with everything to make a spaghetti dinner including candles and wine. I asked if he would do that every night and he said “yes”. That was it, I was in! I so admire his talent, but I digress.
This recipe makes 12 rather large pancakes. The problem is I have one pancake and my craving is satisfied. And because the pancakes are rather large, one each fills the three of us right up. We then have 9 pancakes leftover. I wrap them up, saving them for breakfast the next morning or as snacks. And inevitably, they end up in the compost after a few days.
Cooking has never been my strong suit. Just ask my university roommates. Frozen fish sticks were my specialty. I’m sure they eagerly anticipated Thursday night dinners…my night to cook! So fortunately for me, I found a husband who cooks virtually all our meals when he is home :-). The downside, he is away on business a lot :-(.Another plus, I have a daughter who likes to bake. She received a stand mixer for her 12th birthday and regularly puts it to good use. But, she often doesn’t eat her own baking. So with her dad away a lot of the time, guess who eats most of it. I’m always trying to give some away so you might want to keep me on speed dial…oops, I think I just dated myself! Hmmm…that’s just like saying I “taped” a TV show…lol!
My daughter is like my husband in that she doesn’t like to follow a recipe. She’s not much into measuring so has had to learn the hard way when it comes to baking. How could this be? I have a daughter who doesn’t like to precisely measure things. No wonder we butt heads sometimes. Once again, I digress.
So all my bases are covered except for when I have a hankering for pancakes. You would think that pancakes would fall under the category of baking but not according to my daughter. In fact, she actually prefers pancake mix out of a box. Good thing my craving doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I get the same result. I never try to adjust the recipe, or even think about adjusting it. I just open the book and get to work.
It’s funny I am creative in many other areas of my life - design, fashion, crafts, problem solving but not when it comes to cooking. I don’t know, I have no imagination. I can’t figure out which spices go well together or anything else for that matter. I need direction. I NEED A RECIPE.
Maybe next time I get the craving, I will try to scale down the recipe so it makes 6 pancakes instead of 12. Or maybe I will look for a new recipe that makes a smaller batch. Or more likely than not, history will continue to repeat itself. Anyone want to come over for breakfast?
P.S. Those aren’t really my pancakes in the photo, in case you were wondering.
Colleen Kanna is a breast cancer champion and creator of coKANna designs, a line of bamboo knit, Canadian-made adaptive clothing for women touched by breast cancer.