Which to most British people usually only means one thing…… pancakes!  As a child, I well remember the excitement that would build during the afternoon at school; rushing home to see a normal tea being prepared.  Horrors!  Where were the pancakes??  After you’ve eaten some proper food would come the reply.  I preferred mine with sugar and lemon juice, still do.  The only difference between now and then, is that now I know when to stop pigging them down!  Back then, it was my mam who knew when to stop making them, and we’d always try to cajole her into making more but she would stand firm!

Tonight for us is a swimming night, try doing that with a belly full of pancakes!  So instead we’ll eat normal food and designate Saturday morning as our very own pancake day, starting with a couple of savoury ones to line your stomach before moving on to the sweet variety with a big mug of coffee.  Try some with Maple Syrup instead of the sugar/lemon mix.  Mm mm good.

Traditionally, making pancakes was thought to be a way of using up any eggs, milk and fat left in a house before the fasting associated with Lent.  One of the longest standing traditions associated with this day is the pancake race in Olney, Buckinghamshire.  For 17 years I lived just down the road from this little town and it was always well reported in the local newspapers and television stations.  It’s supposed to have started in 1445, when a woman cooking pancakes heard the bells calling her to church, and ran there still holding her frying pan and wearing her apron.  The race has been held in the town every year since then.

I still think I’ll stick to swimming though!

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