i pan well.

if you're not into pancakes,
we can't hang out.
....i'm serious.
panniecakes are kind of a friendship test.
if you're using box mix?
FAIL.
if you're using fake brownified maple-ish syrup?
FAIL.
if you're only reppin' one kind of flour?
i won't fail you for that...
...but you're getting an incomplete.
ha.
but, i mean, i DO take panniecakes seriously.
and also,
i take 'em to eleven.
what else would i do,
and why else would i heat up the griddle
if not to fire it up with some expertism?
word.
when it's time to get busy with breakfast here in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
we use at least three kinds of flour,
and we curdle our own buttery-soymilk,
and there's shapes involved,
and vanilla because they're cakes and not just breads.
and we combine textures,
and activate toppings,
and most of all, we drizzle that really real maple syrup.
huh?
whaaaaat?
why doo-doo all that work,
just for a stack of golden griddle cakes?
because too much is the right amount,
and when you truly know what the hottness is already,
you can't just pretend that some tepid-A* jauns have got it poppin',
c'mon.
that's liarmouth diaperbaby sh!t,
bush league self-delusion,
weak sauce of the lowest caliber,
and that's NOT the way we start our days, neighbors.
real talk.
it starts with the pancakes, and spreads to the house, y'all.
check the over-arcing-thematic-unity-type teleport:

wu-TANG!!
coconut oatmeal circle-patterned perfection;
with those apples making the whole thing exxxtra-turbo elite.
yep.
coconut oil and butterish pats heating up those fruity booty slices,
cut thick, and cooked right on up with the skins still on
and kissed with brown sugar that was allowed to caramelize,
on both sides, for that sweet glazed goodness that screams out new england-
and then turned up one more notch
with cinnamon sprankles,
to make damned sure you know it's no joke to come over here and eat with me.
mmmhmmmm.
i just love pancakes, kids.
what can i say?
truth-tellers can never stop.
i s'pose that's just the way it is.
*
there's lots to do this month.
yard work.
hard work.
cooking.
baking.
entertaining.
training.
dog training.
XI-mas amassing.
jeez.
mix in all the tattzaps,
and the fires,
and the walks,
and the drives,
and before too long,
it's a crazy jam-packed smorgasbord bouillabaisse of big actions,
active participation, activated articulation, and interactive family togetherness.
damn.
halfway through it, and there's still twice as much on the back end as there was up front.
it's a big booty b!tch of a november,
and it's all twerk and no play until the last gasps of december.
i AM grateful for the time i have been given,
i just wish there was a little bit MORE of it;
never quiet, never soft.....