A few weeks ago I took a "mental health day" prior to the end of the school year. The end of the year
for principals is crazy. I have multiple night events as everybody is wrapping up the year. Every Saturday is booked. And I was in such bad need of a haircut that I was regularly getting some sort of comment that contained the phrase "mad scientist." So my personal day consisted of a haircut, getting contacts, and having a late breakfast with my wife.
In the midst of my errands, my wife and I went out to eat. We shared something that I had never heard of: lemon ricotta pancakes with blueberry compote. They were delicious - so light and fluffy.
So that following Saturday I decided that I would surprise the whole family with breakfast. Instead of making the daddy standard - Dutch Babies - I decided that I would branch out. We happened to have some ricotta cheese (something about me thinking I would make homemade ravioli while my wife was out of the country), and we still had lemons on our lemon tree. I could use the wonderful Interweb and find a recipe for lemon ricotta pancakes, the whole family would think that I was a culinary genius, and Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry would show up at my door asking me for tips.
I found a recipe that seemed doable, I made sure that I had all of the ingredients, and I got started. Lemon zest, lemon juice, flour... It was all a blur as I mixed, sifted, and grated my way into family lore.
As the griddle heated up and the pancakes started to sizzle, the family came downstairs, enticed by the delicious smells of frying batter. Mouths were watering, and the kids actually offered to set the table to speed up breakfast. We loaded the pancakes up with whipped cream (one of my favorite Saturday morning breakfast toppings), and my wife made everybody wait until we were all at the table to start eating.
The kids shoved bites into their mouths, so excited for the pancakes that daddy made.
Look at that joy.
Look at that bliss.
Look at that delicious awesomeness.
And then I saw this...
...on not one...,
...but three faces.
While I am used to hearing, "This is the best [fill in the blank] that I have ever eaten" from my kids, instead I got, "We like mommy's pancakes better."
My epic pancake cook off was an epic flop. I could have taken the critique from Paul Hollywood, but to have all three kids reject my breakfast smarted. I guess their palettes are not refined enough for what I had planned. In my defense, these turned out better than the ones we had in the restaurant. The kids didn't like them, but the adults loved them. Maybe for this Mother's Day I'll make these for my wife, and my kids can eat dry toast.