This morning I decided to fix my husband pancakes for breakfast. I got out the griddle and put some oil on it. My husband came out to the kitchen and said, "Oh pancakes. My favorite." I smiled, but inside I was thinking about my mom and Fran was wondering why I had put some oil on the griddle. You see when I was a little girl we lived on a farm. My mother cooked with what she had.
We were poor as I have often said, but we always had enough food and really good food. My mom used her cast iron skillets for fried chicken and pancakes. It actually made no difference what she was cooking she used those heavy black pans.
I can remember one day my mother lit into my dad. He had taken her biggest cast iron skillet and took it to the machine shed and ground all the black off of it. He was so proud when he came in the kitchen and held his head down when he left it. You just don't grind off the black from one of those magical frying pans. My mom was explicit about explaining that to my dad.
Once again I got sidetracked while telling a story about my childhood. Her pancakes were made from Gold Medal flour which she purchased in fifty pound bags because of her baking, fresh eggs from her own chickens, milk from our cows and maple syrup often which she made herself. She put melted lard in the batter and put lard in the skillet until it was hot enough to suit her. Hot meant that when she dropped a tiny drop of pancake batter into the skillet and it danced as she called it it was hot enough.
The pancakes were the size of a plate and crispy. Oh they were so good. We often put our own cream and homemade applesauce on them too. Those memories have just been filling my mind this Christmas season.
Anyway, back to my pancakes this morning. They weren't crispy; they were soft restaurant pancakes, but doable. Mother's had ridges that were dark and the edges that were dark and oh so crunchy.
Well a few years ago we found out that cream and lard and eggs weren't good for you. Cast iron skillets were too heavy for me to lift and pancake mix was easier and faster than making them from scratch. A woman once said, (me) that no fat no flavor. That's true because Fran bought me some low fat ice cream milk yuk. He also was educated on the taste vs. ingredients.
I'm sure you all are remembering those that you used to share the holidays with. Yes, it puts a lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, but also a smile on your face. Those memories are the best of gifts that are absolutely free. Just close your eyes and there they are. Happy holidays and a very Merry Christmas.
