A dank, drippy, chilly day. Dull…misty among the trees in the distance, raw in the nose and throat up close. We had my homemade Survival Soup at lunch and R- came in where I was reading and asked if he could have soup for supper. I thought a minute and said yes, but I wanted something else. What I wanted was pancakes. Not only pancakes, but pancakes with butter & maple syrup & pecans.
That’s what we both had. It was a perfect supper.
We dropped pecan pieces on the pancakes while the tops were still liquid-y, before the flip. Not too many; not too few; just “some”. Then the flip, then the butter and the syrup and the devouring.
Perfect. That’s all.
Well, except a strip of bacon for each of it. Bacon improves everything.
Perfection on perfection.