in which I continually have trouble with pancakes
The truth is that I didn't know how to cook anything besides bean and cheese nachos until I was about 20. (But boy could I make stellar bean and cheese nachos). But when I moved off campus in the second semester of my sophomore year and became a vegetarian, I started to branch out a bit. By which I mean that I started to make pasta with various sauteed vegetables and pesto. Not exactly a leap into gourmet cheffery. But I also began to try various pancake recipes.
Apple cinnamon pancakes.
Oatmeal pecan pancakes.
Peanut butter oatmeal pancakes.
Applesauce oatmeal pancakes.
This was nearly 4 years ago. And, 4 years ago, somehow, for whatever reason, the pancakes always--unfailingly--turned out to look rather gross. Truly sketchy pancakes. Sometimes, about 3/4 of the time, they still tasted fine. Once and a while they tasted really damn good. For the rest of my college career I would live off-campus and struggle with the art of making pancakes. I continued to have the same difficulties.
When I moved to Iowa, my mother graciously bestowed upon me a gift of her own old griddle from her unmarried days. I thought: YES! Finally! Making pancakes will become easier! Perhaps it has been the use of a skillet that has ruined my countless batches of breakfast attempts!
But, no. Last year I just about gave up making pancakes after the embarrassment of trying to make them appear appetizing to an overnight guest, only to realize that they were not even cooked through. R has always been a fan of the 'just add water' mixes from the grocery store, and so for the past year I have let him take charge of all pancake preparation. But after he moved to Austin, and I returned Iowa after my extended winter holiday, and realized I am dirt-poor... I decided that damn it, pancakes are very cheap to make, and on the weekends I deserve to linger over a cup of tea or coffee while I listen to NPR and make a breakfast more engaging than the pouring of milk over cereal.
So, today I tried to make applesauce oatmeal pancakes.
And? They looked pretty untasty.
And? Two of them weren't cooked all the way through.
And? By the time I was done cooking them all, they were almost all cold.
And? Now I just have more dishes to wash.
Anyone out there have any pancake tips? This is just getting ridiculous. But on the bright side, I did make an excellent cup of coffee this morning, and the sun is shining so delightfully into my living room. Today's task: a magazine review for my Victorian Lit class, in which I discuss three nineteenth-century periodicals on the subject of my choosing and any light which they might possibly shed on a reading of Jane Eyre. I chose to research madness. So, here I am, reading antiquated accounts of mental illness with my stuffed walrus Thurgood, listening to a nice mix of Junior Boys, Teen Daze, Mum, and Blackbird Blackbird... and, existing as a graduate student of nearly 24 years of age who cannot make pancakes.
Say hi to Neville, my plant.
[beret: Ragstock, shirt: American Apparel, skirt: thrifted, tights: Sock Dreams, necklace: thrifted, bracelets: hand-me-down]