My first food memory is of sitting on a kitchen countertop watching Anna, the young German woman who came to our house to help with cleaning and tidying, pull a puffy pancake out of the oven.
It was the biggest pancake I had ever seen. She slathered it with butter, sprinkled it with lemon, and doused it with a snowy shower of powdered sugar. I was fascinated.
I’m a huge pancake fan. When I was little I would have happily forgone every other food in favor of pancakes, but unlike the other kids I knew, I never really liked syrup. I always preferred my pancakes plain, or with the addition of fresh blueberries or mashed up bananas added to the batter before it hit the griddle.
Occasionally my mom would indulge us by tossing in a handful of chocolate chips, which, at that young age, was just about the most exciting thing ever.