Let me introduce you to my Mobile Pantry/Pancake Studio. This cheap plastic filing cabinet has been retrofitted (read: restocked) to be a fully functional miniature kitchen. It is small and light enough that it can be lifted into the back of my truck, so it goes with me everywhere I go. The chances are, if I spent the night on your couch, my MP/PS was parked next to your dishwasher. It's on casters so it's easy to roll around a kitchen floor.
Naturally, it contains all the essentials:
My MP/PS gives me great comfort; it's a reliable constant in a swirling lifestyle of change. Humans are creatures of habit, and I am no exception. No matter where I am, no matter whose house I'm currently invading, no matter what strange new contortions were required to fit my 6'4" frame on that 5'10" sofa last night (or how badly I slept on said sofa in said contorted position), I can still wake up to my morning routine of coffee and pancakes. And thus, the slender reed of sanity to which I desperately cling is preserved for one more precious day. Pancake batter: mankind's last best anchor to the world of reason.
Pancakes, when made from scratch, are a limitlessly adaptable food item; they serve as my primary creative outlet. By simply adjusting the ratios of ingredients, or by making a few key additions, I can make a batch of pancakes that perfectly express my mood. This isn't intentional -- I don't
try to make the batter one way or another -- I just make the pancakes I
feel like making. The process is intuitive. Pancake batter: a window into the human soul, a street map of the unconscious mind. If I'm feeling happy and chipper, I'll boost the amount of cake flour, use less whole wheat or cornmeal, and sometimes even whip the egg whites so that I get light, fluffy, happy little cakes. If I'm feeling lonely, I'll add something like cooked oatmeal or grated apple. If I'm grumpy -- watch out, because I might just add shit like peanut butter or molasses to the mix. This morning, I felt awesome because I slept in a bed -- and not just that, but a familiar bed (yep I'm staying with my team manager Alan for the
nth time this summer)! I went with a fairly standard buttermilk-based batter with a hint of brown sugar.
Life is too short to NOT use real butter or a cast iron skillet. I made a sauce made of frozen cherries and blueberries.
As you can see, I'm ready for my day. I'm doing my best way to prepare for the Ballard Crit this afternoon. I love pancakes. I love cherry sauce. I love coffee. I love the Ballard Crit.
Naturally, it contains all the essentials:
My MP/PS gives me great comfort; it's a reliable constant in a swirling lifestyle of change. Humans are creatures of habit, and I am no exception. No matter where I am, no matter whose house I'm currently invading, no matter what strange new contortions were required to fit my 6'4" frame on that 5'10" sofa last night (or how badly I slept on said sofa in said contorted position), I can still wake up to my morning routine of coffee and pancakes. And thus, the slender reed of sanity to which I desperately cling is preserved for one more precious day. Pancake batter: mankind's last best anchor to the world of reason.
Pancakes, when made from scratch, are a limitlessly adaptable food item; they serve as my primary creative outlet. By simply adjusting the ratios of ingredients, or by making a few key additions, I can make a batch of pancakes that perfectly express my mood. This isn't intentional -- I don't try to make the batter one way or another -- I just make the pancakes I feel like making. The process is intuitive. Pancake batter: a window into the human soul, a street map of the unconscious mind. If I'm feeling happy and chipper, I'll boost the amount of cake flour, use less whole wheat or cornmeal, and sometimes even whip the egg whites so that I get light, fluffy, happy little cakes. If I'm feeling lonely, I'll add something like cooked oatmeal or grated apple. If I'm grumpy -- watch out, because I might just add shit like peanut butter or molasses to the mix. This morning, I felt awesome because I slept in a bed -- and not just that, but a familiar bed (yep I'm staying with my team manager Alan for the nth time this summer)! I went with a fairly standard buttermilk-based batter with a hint of brown sugar. 
Life is too short to NOT use real butter or a cast iron skillet. I made a sauce made of frozen cherries and blueberries.
As you can see, I'm ready for my day. I'm doing my best way to prepare for the Ballard Crit this afternoon. I love pancakes. I love cherry sauce. I love coffee. I love the Ballard Crit.
2 comments:
panqueques really? Bison, you MUST sleepover sometime this summer! We'll give you a bed, if you make breaky.
-Anjilla
Dude- LOL on the Aliens. No... if they were the aliens, they would be in the shape of jellyfish- with like sheep inside them. yeah.
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