I have been cooking since 1965, it was Shrove Tuesday, mum was making pancakes and I wanted to help.
She stood me on the kitchen stool and taught me to break an egg - it landed on the floor! Mum being mum was great about it. The second attempt was successful.
Next job was to help stir in the egg and milk to make the pancake batter, I was facinated at the horrid looking flour mix into the egg and milk and become a silky smooth batter.
I was horrified at the thought of having to wait an hour to cook my first pancake as the batter had to rest and dad wasn't home from work yet.
Watching Blue Peter helped, until they got to the point of making their pancakes and I wanted to make mine!
Eventually dad came home and mum asked me to pour the batter into the frying pan.
Again I was facinated to watch the liquid batter turn into a beautiful creamy and light browned pancake.
Mum tossed the pancake for me, I was drooling over the frying pan.
Mum slid the pancake onto the plate and let me sprinkle on too much granulated sugar and squeeze too much lemon juice.
That first bite was wonderful, the pancake light and soft, the sugar crunching between my teeth and the lemon made me squirm.
The cooking bug had bitten me at 6 and a half years old, today I still get a thill out of making the humble pancake.
