Listen to the gesture, and what it has to say. The toast speaks, the coffee screams, the pancakes whisper.
There’s always one who sets the tone. For me, it started with pancakes. I can’t remember whether it was post-fight or pre-birthday but there he was at my doorstep with all the fixings. An armful of flour, sugar, eggs, and my mother answering the door in disbelief. A gesture. Once there’s pancakes– or eggs, bacon and toast– we’re all doomed. Try and shut the door at a boy willing to cook.
It was like that when I was highschool young and this gesture seems to insist. I don’t care about Valentines, flowers, or chocolate as much as any modern girl seems to say. But that’s not the same as not caring small loving moments.
That morning in the eleventh grade I woke up and rushed to kitchen to confirm some chick flick religiosity. It was true all along! Boys did do those things. But somehow my father beat me to it and was sitting at the counter languidly like a china-shop bull exclaiming, “Hey Maisa! Your boyfriend makes great pancakes!” Thanks, Dad.
Happy as a clam, my father chewed the romantic gesture that belonged to me.
Anyway, I say it insists because I’ve experienced it since– the friggin’ pancakes. Like any trite love advice goes: support each other, don’t go to bed angry and communication is key. Pancakes fit in there as the most comfortable gesture, measure, standard I’ve found. He must make you pancakes at least once, and all will be fine.
And more; it’s now evolved into simpler constants. Particularly Timmie’s half hot chocolate, half coffee. Tepid from a sleep-in. I never fail to believe in love when I find an unwavering cup of coffee on the nightstand.
Ombre Pancakes with Macerated Blackberries and Homemade Lime Butter
The reason it’s good to make your own butter for this recipe is that the liquid leftover is buttermilk. Said buttermilk will be used in the pancake batter and it’s infused with a really fragrant lime flavour. It’s even got a light green colour to it. So, 1 liter of whipping cream. The zest of two limes. Let it mix past the whipping point until it clumps into butter and separates from the liquid. Strain the butter, keep the buttermilk.
You can use pre-made pancake mix. I don’t see the problem, it’s a great way to cut corners. But my batter recipe was from scratch. So grab 3.5 cups of flour, 3 TBSP. of sugar, 3 tsp of baking powder, 1.5 tsp of baking soda, 3.5 cups of buttermilk, 3 eggs, 1/3 cup of butter, 1 tsp vanilla and a pinch of salt. Mix it up. Now you’ll have to separate your batter into three bowls. I used “food colouring” that I had in the fridge. For the purple pancakes, it was macerated blackberries, which I just mashed with a fork. The pink pancakes were made with Nesquick strawberry syrup! A few things: To get the gradient colour, you’re going to make a mess. Besides the three different colours, I started mixing the batters to make each hue lighter or darker. A bit of pink, with a drizzle of purple and a spoonful of plain–that kinda thing. Also, make sure to heat the pan for 10 minutes on a low heat. You don’t want to have the heat on too high or it’ll brown the pancakes and you won’t see much colour.