Somehow, Saturday's have become the day when I make pancakes for my husband and I.
My attempt at being a domestic goddess, which couldn't be further from the truth.
This ritual brings back many happy childhood memories of when my Grandfather would make pancakes for my sister and I. My Grandfather had a massive sweet tooth, which did not pair well with his diabetes! He used to make the best pancakes. Mouthfuls of sweet, crispy, buttery goodness topped with lashings of whatever topping you could think of. Usually, it was ice-cream. The pancakes were not just a weekend breakfast treat either, they were enjoyed any time of the day. When we were home sick from school with a cold, they often became our lunch, deliciously naughty.
A colleague once expressed to me " It's impossible for a child to be sad when their grandparents make them pancakes on a Sunday." It's true, there is something about this ritual that brings a sense of warmth, love and comfort.
My pancakes I make today are a slightly healthier version of my Grandfather's; protein pancakes topped with cottage cheese and berries instead of ice cream. But they still bring back the good memories.