- Jan 3, 2001
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I had a rough week last week- put in 10 hours of overtime, we had a top engineer leave the company leaving us all overloaded, and I was left beat. The weekend finally arrived and I was determined to recharge. Saturday was spent watching TV, light shopping, and going out to eat, and Sunday was going to be more of the same.
I woke up on Sunday around 8am, turned on the TV, and watched an old Clint Eastwood western while browsing on my iPad. Around 9:30, I hear the family yelling from down stairs "WHERE'S BREAKFAST??? WE WANT PANCAKES!!!"
I ignored it at first, but then the chants started "PAN-CAKES! PAN-CAKES!"...and got annoyed into complying.
I went downstairs, opened the fridge to get ingredients, and...NO EGGS. *sigh* I slipped my trusty Nike slides on my feet and hopped in the BMW for an egg run. Grabbed some eggs from the local grocery store, found some local apples, fresh squeezed orange juice, sausage, and headed home.
The plan: it's apple season, and our local orchard has fantastic Jazz apples, so I figured I would make fried apples with apple pie pancakes. I put the sausage on, sliced up the apples and put them in the frying pan, made the pancake batter, and started cooking.
5 minutes in, my son comes up: "Dad- my girlfriend's coming over. We'll need extra." OK fine, we have enough.
7 minutes in, my daughter comes up: "My boyfriend will be here soon...is there enough?" Yes. There's enough.
10 minutes in, my wife comes up: "I invited my friend over for coffee. We have enough right?" ::grrrrrrr:: I'm not sure, but I'll make it work...
So, 6 people show up for breakfast and Instagram-able platings were created for the entire group. Lots of oooo's and aaaaaa's were heard over the cinnamon/nutmeg smell pouring off of the tender yet crisp glazed apples sitting on top of fluffy disks. Unfortunately I had to use every last bit of pancake batter and sausage to feed everyone, meaning there's nothing left for me to eat. I keep quiet and let them enjoy themselves.
I started cleaning up and then went outside to do some light yard work- listen to some tunes while running the edger, weed whacking...that sort of thing. After an hour I came back in the house and noticed a plate of pancakes sitting untouched: my son's girlfriend wasn't that hungry, so she just ate off of my son's plate. I GET BREAKFAST AFTER ALL!!!!
I pop the extra plate into the microwave for 45 seconds and sit down at the table with my unexpected prize. Pat some butter on the pancakes, then syrup.....whoops. The syrup bottle on the table is empty.
I walk over to the pantry, and there's a jug of maple syrup in there. I grab it, sit down, and begin pouring away.
Suddenly: A LONG GRAY/GREEN LUMP OF SLIME PLOPS DOWN ON TOP OF MY BREAKFAST. Evidentially you are supposed to refrigerate maple syrup after opening it or it will go rancid, and the last person to use the jug did not read the large label stating that fact. I sat there for a minute, watching the sweet smelling ooze smother the pile of apple pie pancakes and drag them off to hell.
Defeated, shoulder's slumped, I walked to the garbage can and scraped off any remnants of what could have been. Instead of a proper breakfast, I ended up settling for saltine crackers with butter on them.
THE bitter END
I woke up on Sunday around 8am, turned on the TV, and watched an old Clint Eastwood western while browsing on my iPad. Around 9:30, I hear the family yelling from down stairs "WHERE'S BREAKFAST??? WE WANT PANCAKES!!!"
I ignored it at first, but then the chants started "PAN-CAKES! PAN-CAKES!"...and got annoyed into complying.
I went downstairs, opened the fridge to get ingredients, and...NO EGGS. *sigh* I slipped my trusty Nike slides on my feet and hopped in the BMW for an egg run. Grabbed some eggs from the local grocery store, found some local apples, fresh squeezed orange juice, sausage, and headed home.
The plan: it's apple season, and our local orchard has fantastic Jazz apples, so I figured I would make fried apples with apple pie pancakes. I put the sausage on, sliced up the apples and put them in the frying pan, made the pancake batter, and started cooking.
5 minutes in, my son comes up: "Dad- my girlfriend's coming over. We'll need extra." OK fine, we have enough.
7 minutes in, my daughter comes up: "My boyfriend will be here soon...is there enough?" Yes. There's enough.
10 minutes in, my wife comes up: "I invited my friend over for coffee. We have enough right?" ::grrrrrrr:: I'm not sure, but I'll make it work...
So, 6 people show up for breakfast and Instagram-able platings were created for the entire group. Lots of oooo's and aaaaaa's were heard over the cinnamon/nutmeg smell pouring off of the tender yet crisp glazed apples sitting on top of fluffy disks. Unfortunately I had to use every last bit of pancake batter and sausage to feed everyone, meaning there's nothing left for me to eat. I keep quiet and let them enjoy themselves.
I started cleaning up and then went outside to do some light yard work- listen to some tunes while running the edger, weed whacking...that sort of thing. After an hour I came back in the house and noticed a plate of pancakes sitting untouched: my son's girlfriend wasn't that hungry, so she just ate off of my son's plate. I GET BREAKFAST AFTER ALL!!!!
I pop the extra plate into the microwave for 45 seconds and sit down at the table with my unexpected prize. Pat some butter on the pancakes, then syrup.....whoops. The syrup bottle on the table is empty.
I walk over to the pantry, and there's a jug of maple syrup in there. I grab it, sit down, and begin pouring away.
Suddenly: A LONG GRAY/GREEN LUMP OF SLIME PLOPS DOWN ON TOP OF MY BREAKFAST. Evidentially you are supposed to refrigerate maple syrup after opening it or it will go rancid, and the last person to use the jug did not read the large label stating that fact. I sat there for a minute, watching the sweet smelling ooze smother the pile of apple pie pancakes and drag them off to hell.
Defeated, shoulder's slumped, I walked to the garbage can and scraped off any remnants of what could have been. Instead of a proper breakfast, I ended up settling for saltine crackers with butter on them.
THE bitter END
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