Pancakes by Col. Stoopnagle
Pancakes are choice, especially when piled one on top of the other and inundated in maple syrup. Before they are cooked, they are gooey; in fact, before they are cooked they don't resemble pancakes in the least, which is more than you can say about sausages. Some day someone (maybe me) is going to invent a spoon which will drop batter in the shape of squares or stars instead of the conventional discs.

One invention of mine has caused quite a stir in pancake circles; it's a Pancake Bookmark. Suppose you're about to get outside of a stack of wheats and you're pouring syrup on each cake separately, starting from the top. As you get halfway down the pile, the phone rings. Ordinarily when you return to your pouring, you'd miss a cake or two. Not with my invention. As you leave for the phone, you simply place the bookmark between the cake you've just poured on and the one you're coming to. Then, when you return from your call (and I hope the conversation was pleasant), you open the pack at the bookmark and proceed with your syrup-pouring, without leaving a dry cake in the bunch. Be careful not to eat the bookmark, especially without syrup.

Most lumbermen call pancakes flapjacks, but lumbermen with higher education prefer the less familiar term flapJOHN.

Pancakes may be eaten with butter and sugar, or with a fried egg. Most pancake-fanciers eat them with alacrity.

Never throw out an old pancake, even though it tends to become rubbery. They have many uses: Milk bottle tops, coasters for highball glasses, small manhole covers. And when marked carefully with hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs they make a fair substitute for playing-cards. For discus-throwing, simply place two cold pancakes on either side of a disc and press firmly, or until your fingers are tired. Let set for one hour, and then scrape the pancake off. When this is done, you'll find you have a disc. Now all you have to do is throw it farther than anyone else and you are World's Champion.

Bob Feller likes pancakes done on one side only; he prefers the batter up.

[From ?, Vest Pocket Essays, circa 1940's]

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Page created March 16, 2005.  Copyright 1998-2005 by Richard D. Squires.