“Pan Cake”

This is a story Mom F told me about when she and Allen were still school-age. Grandma must have been away house-keeping when Allen (my Dad V) got this craving to eat cake. But first he had to bake one.

She says that for some reason she was later coming home from school that day than Allen, and when she was almost home he came running down the road to meet her. “Myrt,” he announced, “I baked us a cake.”

“You did!” Her mouth was already watering at the thought. “Oh, that was really good of you. I can hardly wait to have some.”

“Yeah, but, umm….. It looks funny and it doesn’t seem to taste right.”

She frowned. “Oh? Did you remember the flour?”

“Yes.”

“The baking powder?”

“Yes.”

“Did you remember to add the sugar and the eggs?”

“The recipe didn’t call for any sugar.”

“What! It didn’t call for sugar? What kind of a cake was it?”

Allen shrugged. “I don’t know.  It was just called “Pancake.”

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