This is an excerpt from my cook book.
This recipe is on:
How not to make pancakes.
1. Do not make pancakes in pyjamas; they’ll be extra sweet.
When we were six and four, my sister and I would wake to the whisk whisk of mother whisking eggs.
In our blue and white floral designed pyjamas, we’d wade into the kitchen looking for some sugar to lick.
Mother would plaster some of her paste on our robust cheeks, lick them off, then coo “Good morning, my sweetlings”.
We’d giggle and go on ahead to set the table for breakfast, stopping by our parent’s bedroom to kiss Daddy “Good morning”.
Those pancakes always turned out extra sweet, because we had sprinkles of love… Don’t get me wrong, I love “sweet”, but I read somewhere that it could give cavities.
2. Do not make pancakes for fun; they’ll create stronger relationships.
At ten and eight, we were finally permitted by father to make pancakes after our numerous undercover attempts.
My sister would mix the flour and eggs, whilst I buttered up the pan. In the moments that followed we’d play with the paste, using a half of it to create small snowmen, or paste men?!
Well, whatever.
We’d end up looking like lowbudget remakes of the ghosts in African magic, that look left and right before crossing the road.
As we grew older, I learnt not to underestimate these moments, because they subtly engrained in me consciousness that I could talk about my flaws to that one person who’d seen me dressed in flour countless times.
3. Do not make pancakes with an old friend; it magically makes up your break up.
In my fifth year in college, my ex roommate came visiting. She’d left in anger five months before then. Our ego wouldn’t let us heal.
The day she returned, she was stranded and needed a temporary place to stay. It was not my intention to give my forgiveness to one who never asked for it.
However, I was to make pancakes that evening, and not even all the devils in hell would stop me.
When she came in I had finished my last scoop but I needed some more, she helped me make the paste for the next batch.
The silence was thick and uncomfortable whilst we worked, so I hummed a tune. In a minute she was sobbing. Then came the apologies, the stories, and all.
By morning we were back to being best of friends.
Pancakes are charmed, I tell you.
4. Do not make pancakes for an aged person; they’ll name their first grandchild after you.
I love my maternal grandma with the love for three grannies because she is all I have left of both grandparents.
Grandma’s house is my fattening room. She meets me at the door every time and sings like a chorus “Oh my dear, look at your broom stick legs! What is your mother doing about it?” like it is a life threatening medical condition.
So when she was hospitalized for stroke, I abandoned everything and went to see her. Of course, she was pleased to see me.
Knowing how much she loved my pancakes, I made a few that morning, a few too many that she had to share with the other old lady in the ward who fell in love with them almost immediately.
The next time I visited, I ensured to pack some specially for the other lady, as well as a bunch of scented roses. I expected her gratitude, but nothing prepared me for her surprise.
Three months after my grandma was discharged, I got an invite to the naming ceremony of a baby that bore my name, “Edimaeyen” which means “beloved child”, and a note attached from the old lady in grandma’s ward.
I love to think that I’m all put together but in that moment, I wept.
5. Buy pancakes from Besties Pancake! 😊
©G.G. JOSEPH
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