I made pancakes this morning, with quinoa flour. I wanted to feed my family something healthy and indulgent at the same time. The pancakes were dense and rubbery. Not to mention without much taste, except for the slosh of vanilla and whatever else we put on them once they were cooked.
All the want in the world to have these pancakes turn out fluffy, airy, golden and light – ah, yes, really light – made no difference as I anxiously watched over them in the pan. Once you wreck the batter, your pancakes are done for.
I should have minded the batter. I should have measured with care all the things that went into it. I should have followed a recipe, however uninspiring that might have been.
Well, yes, my airless pancakes, while a ruinous breakfast, they are satisfying plenty as metaphors. And, there is a lesson to be had, one of mindful focus, of knowing what matters and what matter one makes:
If you want heavenly pancakes, be the air for the batter.
