The Perfect Pancakes

“Let’s see, 2 eggs, 1 liter of milk, a pinch of salt, a little oil and I should keep pouring flower until I get a smooth mix. Well that’s easy enough.”

Today I am making pancakes. My best friend is coming over. I have not seen him in years, but I know he loves pancakes. The first time we made pancakes was when we were both 6. Of course my parents helped us make the pancakes, but they tasted the best. We filled the pancakes with syrup, sugar powder, cheese, chocolate paste and other sweet things. Every time we were done eating our fingers would stick of all the sugary things we used.
I know he will love these pancakes, I put all my effort in making the very best looking and best tasting pancakes.

“The mix should be very smooth now. Let’s test it with the back of a spoon. Yeah, there are no clutter in there so its perfect.”

It has to be perfect. I can’t make him think my pancakes haven’t got any better.

I start pouring a spoon of pancake mix in the frying pan and the sizzling of the mix starts to fill the room with the smell of pancakes. I remembered to open a window, else the room would see blue of the smoke that comes off these pancakes. As the mix starts to get ready on one side, I put the pan in my hand and shake it a little. Right on, it’s loose. And with one smooth motion I swing the pancake in the air making it flip over perfectly on the other side of the pancake. The smell is great, he’ll love these pancakes. These must be the best I have ever made.

Half a minute later I put the pancake on a hot plate, and put another hot plate on top of it so they stay warm.

As the pile of pancakes gets bigger the mix in the bowl starts to shrink. There, that’s the last one, as I scrape the last bit of mix in the pan. I finish the pancake and put it on the rest. Then I take a nice tablecloth and put it on the table with two nice looking plates, a knife and a fork. I put the pancakes in the middle of the table. And put two glasses on the table for a refreshing drink. I sit down and I see the pancakes steaming in front of me. I take a pancake and start pouring some syrup on it. Then roll it up and start to eat it.

It’s been 3 years since the accident. I’m not quite over it, and I can’t really accept it that he won’t come over today. He always shows up when I had pancakes made for him. I’m sure he’ll come this time too. I live on my own so his company is a great deal to me. He is going to come and munch on my pancakes I’m sure of it. These pancakes are perfect.

Written by Michael Kraus

  • nique

    Kind of a feels pasta….

  • Orisa666

    Love me some pancakes rn

  • Ace Baron


  • Lisa S.

    It has a ton of Grammatical errors…but the story is good.