Dear World: Yesterday, I made pancakes.
They came from a box but they were good enough that my husband gave me the thumbs up--and he's my worst food critic here at home.
This was the first pancake out of the skillet. I thought it looked a bit raw so I took it for myself. It turned out nice and crispy on the edges but soft and fluffy in the middle. It was delicious.
I became bolder as I figured out the timing for each pancake. I got into a production line type of rhythm and began putting in new batter as I browned the previous load. Each one came out perfectly brown each time.
I was so happy that my husband thought the pancakes were lovely that I made him two special blueberry-laced pancakes. Quite by accident, this one looked sad about the idea of being consumed soon after it was taken out of the pan.
And this is my pile of mini pancakes. All lovely, brown, and fluffy, just the way I like them. It turned out I made more than was needed, but the fact I'd managed to make such a lovely pile of pancakes makes me happy. ^_^
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