sixty: a letter for Aunt Jemima

March 1st was dubbed National Pancake Day (at least by the folks at IHOP).

The House of Pancakes served free short-stacks of buttermilk pancakes to its patrons in exchange for a suggested donation to the Children’s Miracle Network. Supporting a good cause certainly softens the blow of caloric intake, don’t you think? In honor of this “holiday” I wrote to the tried and true Aunt Jemima. I hope you squeezed some flap-jacks into your day friends.

March 1, 2011

Dear Aunt Jemima,

I have such fond memories of you and that big toothy grin. You were a staple at my family’s kitchen table most Saturdays (always after sleepovers) and sometimes on Sundays too. I think I might have been the only kid who used my syrup sparingly (too much sugar in the morning made me feel crummy—see, I really wasn’t normal). And unlike other kids, I never felt pancakes were just a vehicle for your gooey, sugary goodness. A short stack had its own merits as far as I was concerned. But I could never deny what a great team you two made—breakfast harmony!

Here’s proof of my loyalty Aunt J, twenty plus years later: If you’re not on the table, I forgo syrup all together. Maple? No way! Flavored blueberry? Not a chance. You are the tried and true, the original, and the only one for me. I try not to think about the fact that I can’t pronounce most of your ingredients (or have any idea what they are for that matter). I’m living by the “everything in moderation” rule and hoping it all shakes out okay. So here’s to you, and Saturday mornings!

All the best,



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