The Pancake Sandwich....A Sweet Memory

I have two distinct memories of my father in the kitchen.  The first is that almost every night of the week he made popcorn.  Not in the microwave and not jiffy pop.  He made it the old fashioned way.  In a pot with some oil on the stove.  I still remember the worn, silver pot he used, the sound from my room where I might have been doing homework, and the smell permeating the house.  He even had a special bowl, a big brown wicker-y like one, and we got little ones that required refilling if we ran out.

The other happened on the weekend.  Every Saturday morning (I think) Dad made breakfast.  Pancakes were his specialty.  I remember it usually happened too early and I don't recall an option to skip breakfast to sleep in.  He kept bugging us until we got out of bed.  But it wasn't just pancakes.  He always made fried eggs to go with them.  He would assemble his pancakes with the eggs between two.  We never called it anything special, but he would make ours that way if we wanted him to.  We rarely did.

Of course I initially thought it was gross, but eventually grew to like it.  Now to this day, whenever I make pancakes even if they are blueberry or chocolate chip, I fry two eggs (nice & yolky) and slide them in between.  My kids still look at my plate kind of funny because they're too skiddish to try it themselves but they probably will....someday.  Mmmm so good.

Today I went to a favorite diner with a fun friend.  Sometimes I'm a creature of habit and most always am when it comes to eating breakfast out.  I usually waffle (pun intended) between two choices.  #1.  Two eggs over easy, hash browns, whole wheat toast dry. Or #2.  Greek omelette w/lots of spinach.  This morning was to be no different.

But then I saw something that I've never seen on a menu before.  Ever.  Anywhere.  The Pancake Sandwich.  I told my friend the story about Dad and Saturday mornings.  I knew I'd better get it.

When I had plowed through half of it, she said, "So does it taste like your Dad's?"  I thought and smiled, "Yes".  We agreed it was a sweet memory.

Makes me thankful for the years I had him and the memories he made with us kids.