#171 Breakfast

Last night, Daniel asked me to make him pancakes. The last time I made them was about 6 years ago. I tell him that I’ll do my best. I’m forced to look into the spice cabinet which I avoided since Janne died. We have everything: flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, salt, eggs. The only missing ingredient is buttermilk, but I go buy it.

Pancakes made us laugh until the end. When we met as students, I proposed once to her and a Mexican friend to have breakfast. I said, “I’ll make pancakes!”. Our friend said, “I’ll bring the Nutella!” Janne said, “I’ll make the fish salad!” I thought, “Ok… WHAT?!” My Mexican friend and I looked puzzled at each other. In our countries, a pancake is eaten with something sweet. As I learned later, in Estonia, a pancake might mean that or also a savory crepe. Whenever we have calls with this Mexican friend, one of our first comments is “fish pancakes”.

From thereon, I made breakfast. Pancakes were my favorites. I tried buttermilk, something we don’t drink in Guatemala. I added baking soda and baking powder. I used vanilla extract and even mixed fruits. Our Everest was the suggestion of a friend to toast oats to add to the batter (Canadians pancakes, he said).

I kept making pancakes until the boys developed their own preferences. Janne took over the breakfast department. I teased her often about her fish pancakes. She always answered with a “ha ha”.

Last night, I looked for recipes for those pancakes, but they seemed too complicated. Today I just played it by ear. I put the ingredients together as I remembered. There was the odd feeling of “déjà vu” (or maybe it was a “déjà cuit”). Those pancakes came out perfect. Daniel enjoyed them.

As I was going to call quits, Trevor emerged to ask, “can you make me porridge?” I hadn’t done it in several years. I did it immediately my way. The Guatemalan style calls for patiently stir it constantly until it boils (Janne was not patient for this). I set it in front of Trevor. I stepped away from the dining table for a moment. In the meantime, Trevor devoured everything. I still got it.

Janne, you would be proud of my breakfasts, but I won’t make those fish pancakes. That was your thing.