Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent on the liturgical calendar. Ash Wednesday offers us a beautiful, solemn moment of pause where we can consider our attitudes and actions, recognize where we are wandering off the path, and turn back to God. Many take this opportunity to fast for 40 days from something that maybe consuming too much of their attention or energy. It’s a season to repent and reset.
I grew up in a very traditional Dutch Catholic home. We always honored Ash Wednesday by attending mass and submitting to the imposition of ashes on our foreheads. An outward sign of inward change. I remember trying to discreetly blow my breath up towards my eyes because it felt like the ashes were drifting into them.
As a child I did like the solemnity and special feel of Ash Wednesday. It felt like a quiet new beginning. But what I loved even more than Ash Wednesday was the preceding day: Shrove Tuesday. As I kids, I don’t think we knew that the day before Ash Wednesday had a special name. For us, it was Pancake Day! A sticky sweet feast day!
Our mom cooked nutritious meals from scratch every day. With a family of seven, living on a very modest income, our meals were practical and economical. We ate lots of potatoes! Every meal was tasty and satisfying, and we always gathered around the table as a family and began with prayer.
On this special day, mom would begin to prepare soup early in the day. Dutch meatball soup was my favorite. A simple broth, a few vegetables, tiny hand rolled meatballs, and fine egg noodles. We always seasoned our soup with Maggi, a condiment we bought at the Dutch grocery store.
About an hour before dinner, mom would begin preparing to make mountains of pancakes. Dutch pancakes are special. They are much larger and thinner than thick fluffy American pancakes, but they not as thin and delicate as a French crepe. As she began, mom would set large plate over a pot of simmering water and invert a saucer on it. The she’d mix up the batter, heat two skillets and begin making the pancakes. As we got older, we were enlisted to help.
A pat of butter is dropped into the sizzling skillet, then a ladle of batter is swirled into the pan. You carefully tilt the skillet in a circular motion to cover the bottom evenly with batter. Then you wait, watching carefully; at just the right moment the pancake is flipped over. There’s a learning curve here: the first couple were imperfect practice pancakes, set aside on a small plate, sprinkle with sugar and sampled. This is where being sous chef paid off!
Making enough of these delicious “pannekoeken” for 5 hungry kids, especially when we were all teens, was quite a process, involving multiple batches of batter. The result was two towering stacks of pancakes, sometimes listing precariously to one side.
When everything was ready, and the table was set, we all sat, and dad led us in praying the Lord’s prayer. Then mom stood at the head of the table and ladled up bowls of soup. I can’t say I had any real desire to eat soup with all the pancakes tempting me, but that was the rule. Nutritious soup before pancakes.
There is an art to eating Dutch pancakes. You carefully lift one edge of it off the stack with the tines of a fork and loosely roll it around the fork. Then unroll it onto your plate. These delights were then topped with syrup, sprinkled with sugar or spread with jam before being rolled up, sliced and eaten. Delicious!!! It was always fun to teach a visiting friend this technique.
Seldom were there any leftovers.
After this favorite feast, the season lent would quietly unfold, everything just a little simpler and more somber until Easter.
With the passing years, these memories become sweeter, more cherished, especially now that mom has passed away, and we can no longer hear her voice, that hint of an accent in her speech, and the occasional Dutch word or phrase for which there was no adequate translation.
I’m feeling nostalgic as I remember Pancake Day, and the many other traditions that enriched my childhood. I smile, holding this treasure in my heart.
Father, thank you for nourishment.
For the warmth of the sun and the refreshment of water.
For the miracle of the seed and the reaping of harvest.
For the wonder of taste and the blessing of food with loved ones.
Thank you, Lord. Amen.
