Apple Cinnamon Pancakes

We love breakfast in this house.. but I cant get my toddler to enjoy a delicious pancake, no matter how I disguise it.. jelly, syrup, powdered sugar.  Not the end of the world.  But when the rest of us want pancakes, I always have to make something else for her.  By make, I mean pour cereal into a bowl and add milk.

This morning I was staring blankly into the fridge (while I let my husband cash in his birthday-sleep-in card) trying to figure out what to make on this freezing cold morning.  There were a few loose apples kicking around the bottom drawer, so I just went with that.
I Googled my heart out and compiled my own recipe from a few others.  I always put vanilla extract in my pancake batter.. but I just used up the last drops of the best Mexican vanilla that I have had forever.  So I substituted a teaspoon of maple syrup.

Here is what I came up with, the end result was a success!  Grating the apple seems to keep the pancake consistency where I like it.. and chunk free, of course.

Apple Cinnamon Pancakes

2 cup Bisquick (I use Heart Healthy, but it definitely doesn't matter)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (we are VERY fancy around here.)
1 egg
3 tablespoons brown sugar
1 1/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or maple syrup, or any extract your little heart desires)
3/4 cup grated apple

Beat everything together until smooth, fold in grated apple.

Pour batter (I use a soup ladle) onto a hot greased griddle, once bubbles appear and start filling themselves up, time to flip!



I need to get more flour, but let me share my Gram's tried and true pancake recipe:

Grams "Perfect" Pancakes

2 cups flour

2 T baking powder

1 T baking soda

1 T salt

1 3/4 cups Buttermilk (her recipe calls for sour milk)

2 eggs

1/4 cup oil (canola or vegetable.. her recipe says salad oil)

3 T sugar

The Last Gram..

I lost my grandmother on Monday, she was 92.  Gram, as we called her, was my dad's mother.  She had a stroke and slowly slipped away, the Marlborough Hospital kept her comfortable during the process.  

She was born in 1920 and grew up on a farm in Indiana.  She was a school teacher for a few years, before marrying and having 4 boys.  She recently told me that in college, her grades dropped and she lost her scholarship, but a local wealthy farmer paid the tuition of 1 local student every year, and he chose her for her senior year and she was able to graduate.  Another cool fact:  She married my grandfather, and her brother married my grandfather's sister.

My grandparents moved around, Indiana, Wisconsin, California.. and wound up in Acton, MA where my dad and his 3 brothers pretty much grew up.  She worked as a switchboard operator at Emerson Hospital for many years.. She and my grandfather divorced in 1972 and she never remarried, she kept busy volunteering, working, reading, travelling and playing bridge.  Bridge was her thing... playing multiple times a week, up until recently

She was that grandmother who always baked (Mexican Wedding Cake cookies, chocolate cake, pies) and had big dinners ready whenever we came to visit.  She had this awesome wicker basket full of old toys that my cousins and I loved to play with.  The plastic presidents were my personal favorite.  She was that grandmother who never ever EVER forgot a birthday.  She was also that grandmother that would throw out a comment like "I like my coffee like I like my men, strong and dark." at the dinner table.

As the years have gone by, she kept her wit and never lost her sharp mind.. when my dad died almost 2 years ago (from cancer at age 55), she didn't go to his funeral because she feared she would be so upset that it would take the attention off of the friends and family who were speaking.  She quietly mourned my dad, not wanting us to worry about her.  Always putting everyone else first, that Gram.

I feel blessed to have had her in my life, and I am grateful that she lived so long (my other 3 grandparents died in their early 70s).. long enough to see her sons succeed, her grandkids grown into adults.. long enough to know 6 great grandchildren.  I am so glad that she got to know my daughter.  I realize that my daughter will only be able to remember Great Gram through photos and stories, but thats life.  

I miss her already, but I hope she and my dad have found each other, wherever they are. 

 

I have this cool old cookbook from 1959 that I grabbed from her place when she was selling it.  I think I am going to try out a few things every month.. she always loved to bake, so it will make me feel closer to her now that she is gone.

Copyright 1959 and sent to her from her friend Mildred.. the note says "For a dear friend whose recipe was entered to late for this edition".. Mildred's recipe made it.. it was for something called Chicken Party Pie and the caption reads "Perfect for the ladies!  Chicken chiffon pie that'll win applause at any luncheon." Hahaha gross!

The Torture Chamber

Okay, first post.

I am tired.  I have been tired for what feels like forever.  I don't know how long it takes to get used to an early riser, but I am coming up on 3 years as a mom and I am still not getting the hang of it.  When Katie was a baby, she slept often so I didn't really notice if I was tired or not because I just slept when she did.  Now, she is up with the sun almost every day.. and usually ready for mayhem.

A few months ago, my sweet little girl was on her way to full blown toddlerhood.  She was out of her crib and sleeping in a toddler bed, still taking a nice nap every afternoon and perfecting her Play Dough snakes and ABCs.  There were even one or two triumphs on the No More Diaper front.

Then came a cold.  She came into our room crying that sad and stuffy cry at 3 am, and I let her into our bed.   The next night when we tried to put her in her room at bedtime, it was as if we were putting her in a torture chamber.  Screams and cries and violent thrashes, throwing every toy and climbing on every piece of furniture to stomp and make as much of a stink as possible.  We have very old doors (with glass door knobs and skeleton keyholes) that are not toddler proof.. she can pop the door open no problem.  Oh, and did I mention she is Houdini?  She can get get out or over any toddler gate or door guard.
After 20 minutes of back and forth, holding the door shut in between attempts of negotiation, we caved and let her in out bed again.

So 4 months later, she is still in our bed. We have tried so many tactics.. new bedding, sticker charts, reading 100 books, singing.. she cries the entire time she is in that room.  Even if she passes out somewhere else and we manage to sneak her in her bed, she will wake up a few hours later and find her way into our bed.

Some parents are into it.  The whole co-sleeping thing.  We are not.  I work nights, so I get home anywhere between 12:30am and 2am, going to bed later than that.  My husband works mornings, and his alarm goes off at 4:15.  We are not those parents.

Katie's new thing is sneaking out of bed as quietly as possible, getting through any gate or attempt to keep her upstairs, and helping herself to whatever she is into downstairs.  The other day, my husband forgot to lock the fridge (with a bungee cord through the handles because a regular child lock just won't do), and I woke up to my daughter informing me of a mess at 6am.  We came downstairs to a large puddle of milk (entire gallon) mixed with grated parmesan cheese and ketchup.. all over the floor and in both of the dog's bowls.  Nothing like a disgusting smelly mess to clean up after 2 hours of sleep.. and a waste of $3.  Other days, it's half a tube of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror or my clean folded laundry all over the floor because she wanted to use the basket as a stool to get into mischief.

Our next move is an extra high gate that locks into the door frame and a twin size bed (not buying a new one, acquiring a new queen size bed for my stepdaughters room, and we will move the twin into the torture chamber).  The gate is going to be pricey, but I think it will be worth our sanity.  I can't do the whole let her cry, rub her back, leave, repeat thing.  She won't lay in her bed.  Just stands there and cries.  These new tactics are going to work.  They have to work.  I want my bed back.  I want my sleep back!