a poem in my pocket

Remember home’s kitchen where cheery (if gaudy) yellow & green wallpaper, Mom’s gentle love, and Dad’s loud laughter surrounded our family eating at table booth by patio window.  Every Saturday morning, my Dutch-American mother served us Swedish pancakes (like crepes) stacked with butter and syrup, or rolled up with brown sugar inside or, occasionally, topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.  My best childhood friend, Joyce, would come overnight on Friday to savor the next day’s breakfast.  We’d smell fried sweetness upon awakening and hurry downstairs to kitchen in our pajamas.  Between delectable bites, we would giggle over private jokes and tease my younger brother.  Now I make these favorite pancakes for my hungry boys on Saturday mornings, and they quickly eat to see who gets the last one!  Mom’s recipe (“tweaked” over the years):  3 3/4 cups milk, 4 eggs, 2 1/2 cups white flour, 4 tsp. sugar, 1/2 tsp. vanilla (cousin Ben’s addition), 1 tsp. salt and 4 TBS. cooking oil.  Heat round electric skillet to 350, spray hot pan, pour thin batter, turn once and serve warm, with love.
 

lick maple syrup

morning after sleepover

snow falling outside

Bjorn hosting haibun prompt where dVerse poets share special recipes…