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The Pancakes of Brahma
Jul. 4th, 2011 02:27 pmI've lasted ten days fending for myself with only the aid of a large collection of pre-made supermarket meals. Only one more dinner until we're back together and I can officially declare myself having survived.
Today, it's the Independence Day of this great country, where over a fifth of the population believe their president is a Muslim Nazi, creationism is seriously debated as a political issue, and there isn't a branch of Tesco for 3000 miles. I got up late - still a novelty to me - and not wanting to be a sore loser about my new country of residence's celebration of its independence from me, made some pancakes for lunch. Because let's face it, you don't get much more American than pancakes for lunch without putting them through a waffle iron and then going out and indiscriminately shooting people.
I think my normal recipe worked just as well for larger pancakes as well with a bit of added milk, although due to misjudging the sizes a little, I obviously had to spend a while shuffling them back and forth between the griddle and two plates so that no larger one was ever on top of a smaller one before I got to eat them.
I might take a heap of British biscuits into work to share around tomorrow, as a reminder of what they'd be paying far less import money on if they hadn't thrown our tea into the harbour.
Today, it's the Independence Day of this great country, where over a fifth of the population believe their president is a Muslim Nazi, creationism is seriously debated as a political issue, and there isn't a branch of Tesco for 3000 miles. I got up late - still a novelty to me - and not wanting to be a sore loser about my new country of residence's celebration of its independence from me, made some pancakes for lunch. Because let's face it, you don't get much more American than pancakes for lunch without putting them through a waffle iron and then going out and indiscriminately shooting people.
I think my normal recipe worked just as well for larger pancakes as well with a bit of added milk, although due to misjudging the sizes a little, I obviously had to spend a while shuffling them back and forth between the griddle and two plates so that no larger one was ever on top of a smaller one before I got to eat them.
I might take a heap of British biscuits into work to share around tomorrow, as a reminder of what they'd be paying far less import money on if they hadn't thrown our tea into the harbour.
