|A dream come true.|
You are everything you promise on the outside of your can and more!
After meeting you at the grocery store for the first time Friday night, I confess I was skeptical. Organic pancake batter in a can? Really? "No Mess! No Cleanup!" you boasted. And though you seemed sincere, I was hesitant to trust you.
This morning, hungry for pancakes and throwing caution to the wind, I ran to the refrigerator, grabbed you, and followed your directions word for word.
I prepped my griddle, I shook you with your nozzle pointing down, and with my nervous and somewhat arthritic index finger, pushed said nozzle and gave it a blast of batter like no other.
And the rest is canned pancake batter history!
Perfectly shaped pancakes, I tell you! Light and fluffy, just like you promised! So tasty, too! No messy, gooey mixing bowl to deal with afterwards. And that, Batter Blaster, is when I fell hopelessly in love. I have since made a vow to never make pancakes from a box mix again.
As Aunt Jemima as my witness, I have stirred my last batch of batter.
I mean, you are just so much fun! I'll never forget dotting the skillet with teeny tiny bits of batter just to see how miniscule a pancake I could actually create! I felt like a giggly school girl again as I scrawled my son's name, DANIEL, in big, bubbly batter blasts across the griddle.
"Ta-da!" I announced, as I proudly presented him a plate of pancake letters smothered in butter and syrup.
Granted, if he were 5 and not 17, I am sure he, too, would have found my latest culinary feat as amazing I did.
Truth be told, Batter Blaster, now that I have found you I think I could dine on pancakes seven days a week. But, sadly, that shall never be. For you see, I've been flirting with the idea of losing weight, and one Dr. Oz is expecting my 11-week commitment to him and his Move It and Lose It Challenge. I haven't read the fine print yet, but I am pretty sure a steady diet of pancakes -- no matter how perfect -- are not on my diet plan.
If only I'd met you before Dr. Oz...truly, I am torn...
Why, oh, why must I be a dieting non-domestic diva in love?