Pancakes

A simple compound word. pan-cakes. A word that has a bit of history in our family. My Great-Grandmother Priscilla Villa taught my mom how to make pancakes from scratch. Not Bisquick, not shoot the batter from the can...but homemade.

These pancakes are fabulous. It's the type of recipe that is not written down. It's the type where I just sit and watch my mom throw in a little bit of this and a little bit of that.

Here I am 44 years old and have NEVER attempted making these sacred breakfast items. When my mom went to Ireland in 2000, my dad and I were craving them along with my sister so... my sister tried and although this seems unreal-there was so much sugar in the mix that crystals formed on top. They were good. Obviously, still a topic of conversation.

So today, I called my mom. I asked her for the recipe. Her reply was, "are you going to make them?" Her tone of doubt put me to the test. "Of course I am," I said to myself.

With activity in the kitchen, both Ricky and Jessica's curiosity peaked. "What are you doing?" "Absolutely nothing," I stated.

Well, let me tell you. Success hit 1976! The pancakes were phenomenal. I literally had a tear in my eye as I watched those little golden cakes form bubbles as I was about to turn them. Picking up the spatula I begin to flip and-"you have got to be kidding me!" The new grill I was using was too hot! I finally found the right setting and we each got one pancake out of the first Villa Pancake Recipe. Ricky and Jessica were shocked. "Can you make some more?"

So I whipped up my second batch, turned the grill on and we all enjoyed "Grandma Villa's/Nana's Pancakes."

As I sat here typing this, Ricky came around the corner on his way to the shower and said, "Mom, those pancakes were the BOMB."

Validation, yes. Happiness, yes. A recipe that won't get lost, yes.

Amazing what a little compound word can do:

Today I made homemade pancakes with my grandmother's recipe.
I know my Grandma Villa is looking down and smiling at me.

Peace