There’s a convoluted story behind these griddlecakes and before I give you the recipe—which you most certainly should try—I must tell you the story.
Remember these?
The tacky charming little wooden calendars that everyone had in 1985? You know the one that came with holiday-decorated wooden chips so that you could put an American flag up on July 4th and a pudgy little painted wooden Santa up for Christmas? Surely your mom had one. Perhaps you still do. {My profuse apologies if you love yours. Maybe they are kinda quaint.} But my sister and I used to ruthlessly poke fun at the one in my mom’s house. And we’d pretend to fight over who would inherit the wooden calendar. Except in true Appalachian style, we’d never say ‘inheritance’—-instead, we’d call it ‘my part’.
I’ve known since I was 10 years old what I wanted ‘my part’ to be so I began campaigning early for the cookbook that my mom used when she made griddlecakes.
I’d fake-fight for the calendar but I’d catfight anybody for the cookbook. My sister was not that attached to it thank goodness. And anyways, I had agreed to relinquish all rights to the calendar? Sacrificial love, ya know. I could make griddlecakes and she could put up the wooden St. Patrick in March.
It was several years ago when my mother officially gave me the cookbook and I remember it vividly. It was like a right of passage. I’m pretty sure I got verklempt. So I keep this very heavy, beautifully bound cookbook in my kitchen as a tribute to my mom and her griddlecakes. Of course, I’ve altered it slightly but it does make the best pancakes ever. And I love that they’re called griddlecakes. Because that makes me think of my mom in a blue terry cloth short set with a hood and a killer tan standing over a batch of these:
And now for the recipe.
2 cups of all-purpose flour
6 t. of baking powder (yes, 6!)
1 t. salt
2 T. Sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups of milk
3 T. oil
Mix and ladle onto hot ungreased griddle. Cook until dry around the edges and golden brown on bottom and then flip and finish cooking. Enjoy!