what's a little saturated fat between friends?
This is the second year that our local elementary school library has sponsored visits from two German children's authors. They will be reading excerpts from their latest books tomorrow and in between readings there'll be a "healthy breakfast" dished up by volunteer mothers for all 260 kids. Being a member of the Baldwin Bookworm Library Volunteer Team (they gave me a laminated card and everything!), I have no excuse not to be there. I did it last year and it was...um...interesting.
So "healthy breakfast" means just that - no bacon, no Eggs Benedict, no Tang and definitely NO Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs. Just fresh fruit, dairy products and whole grains as far as the eye can see. I'll be there at 8 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning weilding a paring knife and an apron.
But let's be realistic about this "healthy" stuff. Sometimes you're happy if your kid eats anything at all. When our first child came along, I thought I must have done something right, since he ate absolutely everything and still does. Then his little brother appeared on the scene and blew my theory right out of the water. This kid, whom we have christened The CarbMaster, would happily exist on apple juice and pasta if we let him. Not unhealthy choices as such, just too one-sided in the long run.
Mr. Picky has been expanding his food choices as he gets older, however, and the following recipe (and I use that term loosely), while not exactly healthy, is something that he WILL eat.
This is what I call Not Your Mother's Pigs in a Blanket.
First you cook up a bunch of breakfast sausages, the small Nürnberger Rostbratwurst in my case, since that's what passes for breakfast sausage around these parts.
Then you fire up your trusty sandwich maker. You do have one of these, don't you? If not, go out and buy one. I'll wait.
Now make your favourite pancake batter and spoon a bit into each compartment of your brand new appliance, lovingly placing one of your wee sausage friends on top. Top with more batter, but not too much. Rumour has it that if you use too much batter, the excess will squoosh out the sides of the machine and dribble down, making an unholy mess of your countertop and causing you to swear like a fishwife in three different languages. If course this has never happened to me.
Where were we? Oh yes, close the lid and twiddle your thumbs for about 4 minutes or until that familiar pancake aroma comes wafting out.
Now, open the lid and look at what you created - fancy little golden brown pockets of pancake-y, sausage-y goodness just begging to be dipped in real Canadian maple syrup.
Bon Appetit, eh?
(P.S. These freeze well and can be reheated in the microwave.)