Welcome back to the new school year! After a very busy summer off my daughter and I have begun to prepare for the new year. I returned to contract time last week for three quick days before a nice four day break. Madison spent some time with me to save a few dollars on daycare and Saturday morning I decided it was time to introduce her to a Hicks family tradition.
The pancake dinner. A Hicks family tradition that Madison has abstained from in her disdain for anything not shaped like a chicken nugget. We Hicks have been known to drop everything for a good pancake dinner. It could be a Sunday morning breakfast or a Thursday evening at the local VFW. I even have the handmade pancake cooking apron that Grandma Hicks made for Grandpa Hicks hanging on my dining room wall on display.
Grandma would often say Grandpa couldn't cook anything except a good flapjack. My father is also known for busting out a grade A hotcakes meal at the request of the grandchildren. I have been carefully schooled in the Hicks art of pancake making by the masters of the Hicks clan.
Saturday, I decided on brunch and began cooking at 10:30 by throwing a slab of bacon on the griddle to get the appropriate mouth-watering ambiance going. Quickly I progressed to making a good dozen eggs as I discovered they were rapidly encroaching on the expiration date. Add a little ham and the house smelled so good that it was almost intoxicating. I opened a whole box of Hungry Jack pancake mix and prepared to begin mixing the batter to the proper consistency.
My normal pancake order is 2 cups or 12 pancakes that are about a half inch thick. I eat two or three, waste one on Madison who looks at it like its the offspring of an alien bird and then freeze the rest for later consumption. A good plan for a single dad who eats a lot of frozen leftovers. As I measured the mix I sat the box down on the counter and reached for something in the cabinet.
It is at this point that I should mention that my mother always insisted that when cooking run a sink full of warm dish water so that you can wash as you cook. This creates less mess for you to clean up after you eat. It took her years to drill that into my head and now that I am responsible for cleaning up my own place I finally listen to her.
As I reach for the cabinet door my elbow makes contact with the Hungry Jack box. In slow motion I watched in horror as the box fell, flour end open into the dish water. "D@&% it!" I snatched the box out of the water cussing like a sailor. Water sloshed out of the box and I pulled the plastic bag out of the box to find a small trickle of soapy water seeping into the top layer of pancake mix. Brand new box! In my anger I went to throw it all away.
As I tossed the mess in the trash I realized I could make the whole box of batter and then freeze what I don't eat. Excessive yes, but it would save over half a box of mix that I would have to throw away otherwise as the soapy water started to clump up. Carefully, I estimated five total cups of saved mix. Calming down I began to measure and pour the water into my large bowl of dry pancake mix.
Around 2 cups into the process of stirring in the water Madison came running in. She gets concerned when she hears me raise my voice. Such a sweet little girl I have to make sure she understands it wasn't anything she did. I showed her the empty bag with the soapy mix still in it and explained what happened. I placed the bacon and eggs in the oven at the lowest setting to keep them warm and turned back to my mix.
How many cups did I say I had mixed in? I thought 2 right? I added three more cups of water as instructions suggested and began stirring. Quickly I discovered the batter was thin. The batter was so thin I began to question my measuring skills. Never dawned on me I had miscounted when I was interrupted. I began dipping the batter onto the griddle. My pancakes spread, they ran towards the drip drain. I had a half cup of batter that spread to cover the whole griddle. I was making crepes!
For the next two and a half hours I perfected the skill of baking my pancake soup. It was exhausting, hard work that never seemed to end. I filled one plate with a mound of paper thin pancakes ten inches high. I started on the next plate. Madison's mother showed up to get her. I was still cooking. It was a mess.
Finally at 2:00 I sat down to eat. Even feeding Madison's Mom and two brothers I still froze roughly 200 pancakes. I am still exhausted by my marathon experience of pancake making. Madison, of course, enjoyed her chicken nuggets.
The pancake dinner. A Hicks family tradition that Madison has abstained from in her disdain for anything not shaped like a chicken nugget. We Hicks have been known to drop everything for a good pancake dinner. It could be a Sunday morning breakfast or a Thursday evening at the local VFW. I even have the handmade pancake cooking apron that Grandma Hicks made for Grandpa Hicks hanging on my dining room wall on display.
Grandma would often say Grandpa couldn't cook anything except a good flapjack. My father is also known for busting out a grade A hotcakes meal at the request of the grandchildren. I have been carefully schooled in the Hicks art of pancake making by the masters of the Hicks clan.
Saturday, I decided on brunch and began cooking at 10:30 by throwing a slab of bacon on the griddle to get the appropriate mouth-watering ambiance going. Quickly I progressed to making a good dozen eggs as I discovered they were rapidly encroaching on the expiration date. Add a little ham and the house smelled so good that it was almost intoxicating. I opened a whole box of Hungry Jack pancake mix and prepared to begin mixing the batter to the proper consistency.
My normal pancake order is 2 cups or 12 pancakes that are about a half inch thick. I eat two or three, waste one on Madison who looks at it like its the offspring of an alien bird and then freeze the rest for later consumption. A good plan for a single dad who eats a lot of frozen leftovers. As I measured the mix I sat the box down on the counter and reached for something in the cabinet.
It is at this point that I should mention that my mother always insisted that when cooking run a sink full of warm dish water so that you can wash as you cook. This creates less mess for you to clean up after you eat. It took her years to drill that into my head and now that I am responsible for cleaning up my own place I finally listen to her.
As I reach for the cabinet door my elbow makes contact with the Hungry Jack box. In slow motion I watched in horror as the box fell, flour end open into the dish water. "D@&% it!" I snatched the box out of the water cussing like a sailor. Water sloshed out of the box and I pulled the plastic bag out of the box to find a small trickle of soapy water seeping into the top layer of pancake mix. Brand new box! In my anger I went to throw it all away.
As I tossed the mess in the trash I realized I could make the whole box of batter and then freeze what I don't eat. Excessive yes, but it would save over half a box of mix that I would have to throw away otherwise as the soapy water started to clump up. Carefully, I estimated five total cups of saved mix. Calming down I began to measure and pour the water into my large bowl of dry pancake mix.
Around 2 cups into the process of stirring in the water Madison came running in. She gets concerned when she hears me raise my voice. Such a sweet little girl I have to make sure she understands it wasn't anything she did. I showed her the empty bag with the soapy mix still in it and explained what happened. I placed the bacon and eggs in the oven at the lowest setting to keep them warm and turned back to my mix.
How many cups did I say I had mixed in? I thought 2 right? I added three more cups of water as instructions suggested and began stirring. Quickly I discovered the batter was thin. The batter was so thin I began to question my measuring skills. Never dawned on me I had miscounted when I was interrupted. I began dipping the batter onto the griddle. My pancakes spread, they ran towards the drip drain. I had a half cup of batter that spread to cover the whole griddle. I was making crepes!
For the next two and a half hours I perfected the skill of baking my pancake soup. It was exhausting, hard work that never seemed to end. I filled one plate with a mound of paper thin pancakes ten inches high. I started on the next plate. Madison's mother showed up to get her. I was still cooking. It was a mess.
Finally at 2:00 I sat down to eat. Even feeding Madison's Mom and two brothers I still froze roughly 200 pancakes. I am still exhausted by my marathon experience of pancake making. Madison, of course, enjoyed her chicken nuggets.