Childhood memories can shape a person, I truly believe that.
There’s nothing like that intense nostalgia that hits you when you walk past a smell from the past, obviously referencing food here, nothing weird…. And there are certain food items I, personally, cannot order out or enjoy from anyone else except the one person or place I got it from during my childhood.
My dad’s breakfast biscuits and gravy, for example. I’ve endeavored to try different ones: homemade biscuits, more-gravy-than-sausage ratio, and an interesting chorizo one. But alas, there will never be one that compares to his from-the-can biscuits and white gravy with a pound of spicy breakfast sausage. (Although I did make a decent dairy-free one I think Dad would be proud of!) When we spend the night, I’m sure to remind him what I’d better be having for breakfast.
Another is my paternal grandmother’s chocolate chip pancakes. Growing up, my grandparents always lived about two hours from us, and then in my teens it changed to 10 hours. So it was an event when we’d stay the night there and without fail we’d get those pancakes for breakfast the next morning. The rest of that side of the family live in the same town so it was more often that my family foursome got the pancakes than anyone else--ha!
My grandparents recently moved from the house my dad grew up in and the one my memories go to, which was sad but necessary. I can still remember Grandma was always up first (when does that woman sleep anyway, she’s always up last too!), and I’d usually have to wait a few moments for the first batch to come off the stove. The big breakfast table would always already be set with thick-cut, microwaved bacon and warm syrup, and she’d ask who wanted nuts in their pancakes (not for me, I love nuts but not in this stack of childhood goodness!).
I’ll share you Grandma’s secret: cooking the pancakes in lots of bacon fat. She would have a liquefied bowl of it sitting next to the pan and spoon it in with every batch. That way the pancakes were fluffy but those crispy edges are the stuff of dreams. Oh, those crispy edges.
I want some now.
Back to my point--I can’t order chocolate chip pancakes ever anywhere. I make them plenty at home (with lots of bacon fat!), but alas, I can never achieve what Grandma did by the way of crispy edges and altering at least one child for the rest of her life.
It’s moments, memories, smells, foods like those that I hope my sweet lil babe grows up to cherish as well!
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