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Pancakes and the Syrup Saga, with a side of Bacon-Fueled Angst

June 30, 2013

Sometimes you just want pancakes.

When it happens, you should just make some damn pancakes.

Pancakes are easy as hell to make and take minimal effort (you can find a basic recipe pretty easy via the Interzone…why don’t I google that for ya).

I had some buckwheat flour in the pantry from the last time I made buckwheat pancakes and wanted to use that up.  I didn’t have quite enough.

I ended up mixing the buckwheat flour with pastry flour (to lighten up the texture a bit) and almond flour.  I didn’t measure, just made sure the batter had the consistency I was looking for.  I also used almond milk because that’s what I had and added some cinnamon besides the other normal ingredients.

The real kicker was that I had no syrup.  Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits, but when the urge struck me, syrup was prominent in my visions of pancake heaven.

So I made a simple syrup.  Brown sugar, butter, water, vanilla extract.  Boiled, then reduced.

There is no reason I shouldn’t always do that.  It was perfect.

To complete it, I tossed on some fruit and a modest amount of powdered sugar.

Simple.  Easy.  Good.

I saw these bacon “filled” pancake dippers a few days later during my web meanderings.

Normally I scoff and sneer at all the bacon hullabaloo.  I like bacon.  Nevertheless, the social media/Interzone culture’s glomming onto bacon like it’s the best thing since sliced bacon is just annoying.  Bacon cupcakes with bacon chips and bacon lard frosting.  Bacon cotton candy.  Bacon dipped bacon.  Bacon pudding.

Sure, there are great combos to be had.  Interesting food adventures.  There are also things that can be comfortably left to fevered nightmares.  I learned as a youth that every crazy experiment I dreamed up didn’t need to be followed through with.  Some things are destined for disaster and while flaming paper airplanes thrown out a second floor bedroom window may look glorious, they have to land somewhere.

Let’s not forget that bacon isn’t what makes the bacon cheeseburger such a joy.  A good burger does.  Bacon cheesecowpatty just doesn’t hold near as much taste bud ecstasy.

Like so many awesome things, the best way to ruin it is to saturate yourself with said awesome thing until it makes you ill to think about it.  Maybe we should just do 21 bacon mint tequila shots with a raspberry syrup chaser.  Nothing bad will happen.  Trust me.

Am I ranting?  It feels like I’m ranting.  Ahem….

What makes these dippers a sound concept is that bacon, syrup and pancakes are supposed to have sloppy relations on your plate.  As such, I am forced to see the beauty of the dippers.

I may have even smiled when I saw this bacon-food-concoction.  Maybe.

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