Swedish Pancakes on Sunday morning

After several conversations with two of my older sisters and  spending some time in reverie and reminiscence I have gathered enough information to say with confidence Swedish Pancakes on Sunday Morning with Grandma Sophie and Grandpa Carl Dalberg may actually be my very first food memory.  My grandparents had a working farm outside of Kent, Washington. I spent the first six years of my life in the Great Pacific Northwest so many of these formative years will be a part of the early posts of this food memoir.

My grandparents had seven children. My father Phillip was their youngest son. He had seven children of his own by this time. We all would visit them on Sundays. As a general rule we would have Swedish Pancakes. Swedish pancakes are a thin, flat, round cake prepared from a batter, and cooked on a hot griddle or frying pan , similar to a crepe. If my memory serves I was only as tall as the seat of the wooden chairs assembled around the kitchen table, I recall trying to impatiently hoist myself up onto one of these chairs to take part in the morning feast preceded by the aroma of fresh cakes, coffee and probably bacon. Imagine the eggs had just been collected, the milk just drawn and the clatter of dishware and human voices. Maybe idealized but warm sun shining in the window was how I recollected these happy times. A tall stack of thin, warm pancakes graced the table. I liked mine with butter on each layer, and then drizzled with maple syrup, accompanied by a glass of cold milk.

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