What to write? (or the one almost with the pancake recipe)

I am seriously running out of things to say, which will probably be a shock for anyone who knows me, as I can sometimes talk for days.  What I am realising is that there is just lots of drivel and pent-up emotion in my head, and whilst it is cathartic for me to write it here, and I don’t do this for anyone other than myself, I wonder if it is rather overindulgent of me.

I made pancakes this morning, and thought I could share the recipe, but there isn’t really one, it’s some self rising flour (probably about 7 oz, as I decided 7 was a nice number this morning – I kid you not!), an egg, a pinch of salt, a slug of maple syrup (a different addition for today), a splash of vanilla and enough buttermilk to make it the correct consistency, which is slightly gloopier than whipped cream, but not too thin, as I like them to puff up.  Then cook on a hot griddle.

But to be honest, anyone looking for a pancake recipe would never use that, and those that make pancakes just wouldn’t look for a recipe.

They did come out lovely and fluffy, and since the maple syrup flavour came from within, much less was consumed.  Oh and I warmed up some bananas on the side, which brought a burnt caramel almost saltiness to the overall flavour.  But still, is this really useful?

Then I made bread, black olive and onion bread, but I think I will save that recipe for another day.  It worked perfectly, but I am not sure of the exact ingredients and definitely not of the proving times (the first was as long as it took me to visit with my dear friend).

So there we go, at the moment I am writing bad recipes, posting passable yet often emotionless pictures, and am probably sharing too much of my inner monologue, without any of the details… ho-hum how dull…

So dear reader, dear blog, I will try better.

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