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Growing up, Sunday breakfast was exclusively for pancakes. Everything was right with the world when the alarm clock for the day was the sound of a spoon full of batter hitting the cast-iron skillet. Add the Q-94 gospel singing session to the background, along with my dad’s singing voice as he flipped the flat cakes of batter, and welcome to my house. With the aroma of fresh coffee, butter, syrup, and bacon mixing throughout the halls, walking downstairs was like stepping into a pancake diner, only the line was not as long and there was no charge at the door. Taking a plate from the cabinet and the freshest from the stack, the key was to add just the right amount of syrup. Too much syrup would be too sweet, but too little syrup and the pancakes would be too cakey. It truly was an art and came with practice.

There was something special about these mornings. For it seemed every Sunday morning, life slowed down. Throughout all the years of school, the busy extra-curricular activities, the homework, and all the other events, it did not matter how crazy the week had been or the upcoming obligations—life seemed to stop. Worries melted away like the butter on the pancake, and the stresses of life seemed to fade away with each scrumptious bite. Like most Sundays should be, it was a time of rejuvenation, a delightful orientation to the week ahead. Taking my seat on the floor next to the coffee table, I would listen as my family communed, catching up on the weekend happenings. Of course there was the pancake-eating contest that normally excluded one from Sunday lunch, or the discussion of the newest development in the world. It was just a time where special family memories were made, and it is all thanks to a recipe for fluffy, griddle-fried pieces of batter—pancakes.

Today, these special types of Sunday mornings still exist, and have even more visitors—my nieces. Adding to the laughter, joy, and excitement of each week, my nieces come flying through the front door every Sunday morning on a mission for a stack of pancakes. And continuing in the tradition, my dad never disappoints. This past Sunday night, I helped host a pancake dinner for the youth at my church. Using the old recipe, I listened as many recalled weekend mornings with pancakes and family. It seemed everyone had some memory labeled, “Pancake,” that resembled the morning I just described.

It’s funny how a recipe can have this universal power. Tried and true, the pancake is the perfect combination of ingredients that can create some of the best moments. Therefore, I am thankful for this recipe that has served my family over the many years, and I am sharing today in hopes that your weekends will be filled with pancakes, laugher, and so much more. Enjoy!

Buttermilk Pancakes

Serves 4

Ingredients

1 egg

1 cup flour

1 cup buttermilk

2 tablespoon vegetable oil

Heat skillet to medium heat on stovetop. Add 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil to skillet if non-stick pan. In a bowl, beat egg and 1 tablespoon of oil. Add buttermilk to egg mixture, beat until blended. Pour over flour and mix until blended and small bubbles appear. Spoon batter on pan and cook until brown on both sides. Serve immediately.