This morning I had a flash-back. It was a good one, unlike some that grab me. I thought of my Grandpa and his 'griddle cakes'.
When I had overnight visits with my grandparents, usually it was Grandma who fixed my breakfast, but if Grampa was home, I was treated to his version of a proper morning meal. Grandpa liked to fix 'griddle cakes'. The first thing he'd do is get his big black iron skillet out of the pantry. He'd put it on the burner, add a little butter (not margerine or oil) and he'd slowly heat the frying pan until it spit. While he waited for the temperature to be just right, he'd mix the pancake batter from scratch. Sometimes there would be hot and crispy brown bacon sizzling in that frying pan before the batter took its turn.
Whatever the grease used to keep it from sticking, once the pan was hot, the batter was poured slowly on to the bottom. It was always the right amount... and Grampa would stand watch over his pan until it was time to slide the spatula beneath the 'cake', and turn it over. The timing was everything. The key was to watch the edges for golden and check the 'bubble's on top. If the bubbles weren't popped, it was too early to turn. If the edges weren't golden, it would not have been firm enough. When everything lined up, Grampa would flip his 'cake' and let it lie against the hot skillet for a few minutes. Then he'd slide it onto a plate.
This was no 'stack' of pancakes! It was a plate-sized, single pan cake, on which creamy butter would be spread. Usually I'd have a choice of syrup, white sugar or brown sugar as a topping. Being a youngster, I prefered white sugar. There was nothing like Grampa's 'griddlecakes'....and boy! were they filling, albeit not terribly good for calorie counting!
So, this morning, I flashed back on those pancakes. I normally don't eat them, because I always feel so sluggish after I do, but this morning I pulled out my large, cast iron skillet, mixed up some buttermilk batter and I made some for my breakfast. I opted for Aunt Jemima syrup today, and I must say, as good as it was, it wasn't my Grandpa's griddle cakes.