Thursday, 9 October 2008

On The Subject Of Pancakes

For the first time in a couple of weeks I woke at a reasonable time after a fairly good night's sleep.  And I don't feel like going back to bed again which is just as well because I have a few things that I want to get done this morning.  I have managed to get myself into the bathroom, washed my hair, been to the corner shop to get a few bits and pieces so that I can have a reasonable breakfast, eaten my breakfast and taken my morning tablets.  Quite an achievement as it is not yet 8am.

When I worked I was always an early riser, and most mornings visited the gym before driving on to work.  The early rising always carried on when I was on holiday, particularly when I was in Corfu because I have always thought that the early morning there was the loveliest time of the day.  I would go down and have an early breakfast, sometimes cereal and toast, sometimes fruit, and if I was being really naughty a breakfast of deliciously crispy bacon, grilled mushrooms, potato rosti, baked beans and the biggest sin of all, pancakes and maple syrup.

My parents used to go on holiday to Canada quite often, and stayed with friends who had a turkey farm.  It was while there that Mum and Dad first had pancakes, bacon, sausage and maple syrup for breakfast.  I can remember being horrified at the thought of something so sweet with bacon and sausages for breakfast.  After all, they were savoury items and you don't mix sweet and savoury, or so I thought.

The first time that I had to go to the US for work I was persuaded to try pancakes and bacon with corn syrup.  I tasted it tentatively, and soon found that it was absolutely delicious.  After trying it that first time I was hooked.  When I came home and told my husband about it, he had the same reaction that I had when Mum and Dad first told me about it.  Yuck, too sweet.  However, when we went to Florida for a holiday we stayed in a lovely house that was owned as a holiday home by someone that he worked with.  A trip to the local 24-hour supermarket, which at the time was unheard of in the UK, involved the purchase of goodies to get us going each morning.  So into the trolley went bacon, sausages, pancake mix and maple syrup as well as other basics like bread, eggs and milk.  The first morning that I made a pancake breakfast, I served it with crisp bacon and put the maple syrup on the table.  My husband watched me tucking in, and then decided to try a little syrup with his pancakes and bacon and he too became hooked.

From that time on, pancakes bacon and maple syrup has been a treat to be enjoyed on special occasions.  Yes, I could eat it everyday, but it wouldn't be good for me.  My problem is that it is probably the one thing that I could really gorge myself on if I couldn't exercise a little control.  This means that much as I would love to cook it for myself at home, I don't.  Willpower is exerted and I save it for holidays only.  That means a few mornings when I am in Corfu, and if I am offered it when I go to Canada.  This way I still get my favourite breakfast a few times a year, but I don't end up putting on lots of weight because of indulging myself.

So, why on earth am I blogging about such a strange subject?  Well, it's because for some unknown reason I am really craving that mix of sweet and savoury this morning.  But I shall be good; it will remain something that I think about once in a while.  I can survive like this because I know that if things go well I shall be going to Canada for Christmas, and that I will be given pancakes, bacon and maple syrup for breakfast at least a couple of times while I am there.  I can almost taste it as I am writing this, but the anticipation really can't live up to the real thing.  And when I have had my pancake breakfast I shall be happy for the rest of the day and hope that I can do just enough exercise to ensure that I don't pay the penalty for my indulgence.


Caroline said...

My mother was Canadian, I grew up on pancakes and maple syrup, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and home made doughnuts. We were considered very exotic in the working class North. She used to make her own burgers on Saturday lunch times, my brother and I were always strangely popular on Saturdays...
It's comforting how certain foods have associations, whether with "treats" and holidays or with particular people and places we have loved. Your post brought back my mum on a bleak morning..

madsadgirl said...

I'm glad that I was able to bring back happy memories. I'm afraid peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are something that I really can't face, although my brother often had peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwiches when he was very young, long before we had really heard of it over here, and certainly long before my parents ever went to Canada. It is to my Mum's friend that I hope to be going for Christmas. She has become like a second Mum to me since my parents have died, and her youngest daughter calls me her big sister even though she has two sisters and two half-sisters of her own.