December 23, 2016 – Since I started this blog back in 2010, I’ve told and retold the story of my Grandfather and his famous Christmas hotcakes. Running the story each Christmas has become as much of a tradition as leaving cookies and milk for Santa.
When I think of my grandfather – known lovingly as Pop Pop throughout our large extended family – lots of warm and comforting memories come to mind.
Most often, he’s standing in front of a microphone at a family party singing a favorite song from 1919 that begs, “Don’t put a tax on the beautiful girls, I won’t last a day without love…”
Or, he’s sitting at our dining room table playing Scrabble with my parents after one of our Thursday night dinners.
I also vividly see him standing in the kitchen preparing his famous hotcakes.
Pop Pop made hotcakes every Sunday for his kids before church. Then, he’d make them for us during our summer vacation at the beach because he usually came with us. He’d love to get up early, walk to the grocery store and buy what he needed to whip up a fresh batch. We’d wake to the sound of him whistling in the kitchen with the griddle sizzling.
“Who wants hotcakes?” he’d ask as soon as he saw our sleepy faces.
We all did. They were one of the things we looked forward to while on vacation. And we loved them the next day, too, and maybe even the day after that. By day four, we’d have rather eaten a simple bowl of corn flakes or a Pop Tart, but we never had the heart to say so, and we ate them anyway. It was a small price to pay to please a man who brought so much joy into our lives.
He also made hotcakes for us on Christmas mornings, and we’d eat them as if we never had them before, then he’d fall asleep on the sofa while we opened presents.
Pop Pop passed away in 1977, and I still think of him and his hotcakes every Christmas. Gone but not forgotten, poured but never duplicated, Pop Pop’s hotcakes were the centerpiece of our Christmas morning and our summer vacations.
Those memories will be with me always.