Pierre's Pancake opus 748
| 18 January 2026 1140 Hours | | Food, Family, Grandson, Humor, Memories |
Pierre, my son, was coming with his son, Rowan,
To visit our farm as occurs every month or so.
As we planned the visit, they would leave to come,
Soon after he made a pancake breakfast for Rowan.
I knew how delicious his pancakes were,
So I asked him if he would bring a couple for me as well.
This he did: a beautiful evenly browned cake,
Tucked in a Ziplock bag to keep it moist.
There was only one because, as he explained,
The rest were just gobbled up.
I drew it partly out of the bag to give it a test.
Even though it had been created a few hours previously,
The sweet, pancake aroma struck my nostrils.
The brown pattern was perfect, the thickness was even and delicate.
I sank my lips around it and utilized my incisores through it.
Oh, my, the moisture, the mellifluous taste,
Just lifted my emotions almost to a state of imbibition!
Just a 'plain' pancake--no syrup nor butter,
Stood alone as a gourmet achievement par excellence!
My son, Pierre, has indeed perfected the 'art of the pancake'!