I’m kind of feeling sentimental, and it’s something I must talk about here. As a big iHop fan, however, there’s one thing that matches IHOP’s pancakes, and that would be those of my grandfather, my Papa. Why? Okay, read on.
Every morning in Lake Mary, in the big house where everything seems to have had some semblance of normal, there was something rather special that would happen. My grandfather would make these big fat pancakes with bacon strips on top. The bacon strips were deliciously prepared, floppy a bit, but sometimes a tad crispy and so tasty. These days I miss the pancakes made with love, but my grandfather has since developed some dementia and no longer rides his harley motorcycle to Bike Week, or any other motorcycle events. Since my B Ma, his wife, died, things just haven’t been the same.
Usually, Papa would doctor up pancakes from mix, but my dad tried to do the same. My brother had his own waffle maker, and he’d make sweeter waffles than usual, but nothing quite matches Papa’s pancakes. They were delicious, just something to think about.
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