He chuckled, and sort of spread his hands in a humble shrug. “I have no idea if it’ll work or not. This is my first time ever trying something like this.” His tail fwitted behind him. “But I guarantee you it won’t work if we don’t try. And at worst, I’m out some flour, sugar, eggs and such…and am a little wiser for next time. Just don’t be down if this attempt doesn’t work well, and I won’t be down for stepping on your childhood. Deal?”
“But what I do know how to do is make a pancake batter. Let’s do that while the dough chills out.” He curled an arm around Tammy’s shoulder, giving an almost reflexive little snug. The cuddles just seemed so natural to him, and around him.
“These, you do dry in the bowl, first. Flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt. Yes, salt - putting a tiny bit in sweet stuff makes it taste sweeter.” He gave everything a sift together, while telling her what else they needed. “Couple eggs, that butter melted down to liquid, and the buttermilk.” Naturally, he gave her proper measurements, and…might have thought it was hyper cute the way she was concentrating so hard on getting everything right. He was right in his initial assessment of her, and it was one of the few times that he was proud to be right. She was a good kid. And a rather cute one– (Let me enjoy the moment, brain, don’t complicate things.)
“You’re doing great. Now you just work the wet into the dry until it’s thick. If it feels too thick, like it’s crawling up the wooden spoon, put a little splash of buttermilk in there to thin it out. Little bit at a time, because it’s easy to add more, but you can’t take it out.”
Once she got things to the right consistency, He let her stir a little longer to sort of commit the ‘feel’ to muscle memory. “Now we’ll let that rest, and heat up the griddle.” He showed her where the grill pan was, and how to set it flat-side-up on top of two stove burners. “Medium high on both.”
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