Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Pride and pancakes

My husband is an accomplished pancake-maker. The above are a prime example of his mad skills.

Most Sunday mornings, we're in the kitchen together contriving pancakes. I'm pulling flours and salt and baking powder out of our pantry, Patrick is rummaging in the fridge for a couple of eggs, some milk, and butter. When it comes to the cooking and the flipping of said pancakes, though, it's all him. I stand back at an appreciative distance and watch the man in action.

He does pancakes with the same macho fervor a more carnivorous man might apply to the barbecue. This past weekend, it was attended with just a touch of Hemingway-esque bravado.

Patrick was on the last of the batter, pouring it into a single, giant pancake. We were cozied with our tea cups and the sharing of Saturday-night anecdotes, (a busy night at the cafe for me, a debaucherous party for him) enjoying each other and anticipating breakfast. The he paused, mid-sizzle.

"Hey, watch this."

I watched he raised the frying pan, and the perfect, goldened orb soared into the air, narrowly missing the pot rack...executed a perfect batter-y arabesque... and made landfall in a slimy mess on our stovetop.

Our Hero of Attempted Pancake Flips slumped at his station, and quietly asked for a sponge.

Behold gravity, a mighty foe indeed.


3 comments:

Blue Is Bleu said...

Aww hehehe Looks like something my husband would do... if I ever let him in my kitchen! The dude only ever makes a mess. And cereal. And even then it's a mess lol

tiffany said...

HA! Awesome!

And that's why I don't flip pancakes myself ;)

sherrieg said...

That's awesome! :) My husband is usually the weekend pancake man, too. Yum.

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