June 10, 2005
I made pancakes for anyone who was around the house yesterday. The apron felt good across my chest, like a kind of armor. I make a special batter recipe from scratch, and I use much more vanilla than you'd probably wish, Diary. I use goat's butter for the griddle, but oddly goat's milk just does not work. Manolo of course had his Log Cabin syrup next to the real stuff. He asked me why I had been making so many pancakes. I'd been taking meetings at the airport IHOP for the last week. They wanted to buy my recipe. I didn't really have Manolo going, but he was polite enough to act surprised. Tito pecked at his tiny silver dollar pancake and suffered a wave of melancholy at the image. The carpet cleaners are coming in today so I have to move some furniture. Until tomorrow, Diary.