“Hello, Oleo, what are you making?” “I’m making buttermilk pancakes, Mrs. Butterworth.  Recipe calls for two aigs, a stick of oleo, and a large cup of buttermilk.” “You mean two eggs, a stick of butter, and a large cup of buttermilk.” “I mean two aigs, a stick of oleo, and a large cup of buttermilk.”  Mrs. Butterworth to Oleo, “If you’re making buttermilk pancakes, it requires more eggs, more butter, and more buttermilk. You need four eggs, two sticks of butter, and two large cups of buttermilk.” “Okay, if you’re doubling the recipe, then it’s four aigs, two sticks of oleo, and two large cups of buttermilk.  That means we’re making twice as many pancakes,” said Oleo to Mrs. Butterworth. “Whatever you think, Oleo.  Four aigs, two sticks of oleo, and two large cups of buttermilk.  I have no idea what aigs are, but if they’re like eggs, then, they will do,” said Mrs. Butterworth.

“Where did you get this recipe, Oleo?  It’s not the standard pancake recipe,” said Mrs. Butterworth. “Yes, it’s a special family recipe.  It’s my Mama’s recipe.  Not one like it.”   “Whatever you say, Oleo.  I don’t quite understand your ingredients.  Rather primitive.     My mother would not approve.  She always follows the exact recipe and it always comes out perfect.”  “I follow Mama’s recipe and it always comes out just as Mama told me,” said Oleo.

“Let me give a call to my sista.  She can interpret and confirm that this is Mama’s genuine recipe.  Sista, this is Oleo, can you come over and explain my buttermilk pancake recipe? On your way, good.  My sista lives next door.  She knows the recipe well.” “Thank you, Oleo.  It’s always a good idea to have someone else, who knows the recipe well, verify that you know what you’re doing, which I think not.  This is not a standard buttermilk pancake recipe,” said Mrs. Butterworth.

“Sista, good mornin’.  Mrs. Butterworth, meet my sista, Jolene.  This here lady is having a problem understanding Mama’s buttermilk pancake recipe.  Can you explain it to her?” “Glad to, Sista.” “Mrs. Buttermilk, I mean, Mrs. Butterworth, it’s a simple recipe.  Let me clear up your problem.  I’m sorry you can’t follow the directions, but let me see if I can make sense out of it for you.  Once I explain it and show you how, any idiot can make these cakes,” said Jolene. “Oleo seems to be the one that doesn’t know how to follow directions. This recipe is a train wreck in the making.  Give me a sensible explanation to your Mama’s fine recipe and it’s proper ingredients,” “Glad to do it, Mrs. Butterworth,” said Jolene.

“Now, Mrs. Butterworth, these are the main ingredients.  Two aigs, a stick of oleo, and a large cup of buttermilk,” said Jolene. “It’s the same as Oleo’s recipe.  Surely there must be other ingredients.  I just cannot imagine these ingredients making a culinary delight,” said Mrs. Butterworth in a repulsed manner of speaking.

“Here’s the rest of the ingredients. Two cups of flour, a teaspoon of baking soda, a teaspoon of baking powder, a little salt and sweeten as you like with white sugar,” said Jolene to Mrs. Butterworth. “Well, Jolene, you, at least, know the rest of the proper ingredients.  Two aigs and a stick of oleo makes the worst kind of anything,” said Mrs. Butterworth to Jolene. “Sista, Oleo, you got one ingredient wrong, only a half stick of oleo.”

“Mrs. Butterworth, here’s a mixing bowl.  I’ll let you do it for yourself.  Add two cups of flour, two aigs, the oleo, and buttermilk, then add the rest.  Stir the batter, not too much, then you’re ready to make your pancakes,” said Jolene. “Sounds so simple and it’s easy to do.  Maybe these will turn out to be pancakes after all. Maybe,” said Mrs.Butterworth, a little skeptical, yet with a positive manner of speaking. “Oh they will, you’ll see.  Mama told us so and we are right,” said Oleo emphatically to Mrs. Butterworth.

“Mrs. Butterworth, have you ever tasted buttermilk?  No? Well, have a taste,” said Jolene. “This is awful, spoiled milk.  So bitter and so sour.  There must be a substitute for it.” “Nope, that’s the way it is.  It’s the left over butter cream with bacteria added to it.  A tangy and sour taste.  You will be surprised with the outcome.  You’ll see and taste the difference,” said Jolene to Mrs. Butterworth. “I am not responsible for any sickness caused by these flat and despicable pancakes.  In good conscience, I cannot do it.  Mother would, certainly, not approve.  She would disown me,” said Mrs. Butterworth.

“Now, here’s the pan.  It’s a cast iron griddle.  Been in the family for years. It was Mama’s,” said Jolene with pride. “You mean, pancakes are made on that dirty, smutty flat pan?  I really don’t think these buttermilk pancakes will be pleasing to the eye. Like burnt toast, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Butterworth. “Now don’t draw any conclusions, yet.  Let’s make them, then you can judge for yourself.  You will be surprised with the outcome.  I promise,” said Jolene. “Turn your fire on low, then slowly add your batter, a large tablespoon for each pancake.  We are making large pancakes.  Just like Mama told us so,” said Jolene. “Oh, I’m so nervous. Here goes. Batter on the griddle.  How long do I cook them, Jolene?” said Mrs. Butterworth. “About two minutes on one side and one minute on the other because the griddle is already hot enough,” said Jolene.

“You know, Jolene, these do look like pancakes.  I like what I see. Just like mother learned in culinary school.  She may approve.”

“Now flip them over and in one minute you will have made your first genuine buttermilk pancake.  Just like Mama told us, and she is always right.  You’ve done it.  Have a taste.  What do you think?  A culinary delight?” asked Jolene. “These are more than culinary, they are delicious,” said Mrs. Butterworth.

“Now, place your cakes on this here plate.  Add two pats of oleo and pour a hot warm liquid of real, artificial, maple syrup.  I guess you may know something about artificial.  The pancake mix out of a box just doesn’t taste like Mama’s cakes.  Mama knows best,” said Oleo. “I think your Mama does know best.  These are cultured and I like them,” said Mrs. Butterworth.

Any homemade recipe is always better than out of the box.  Real ingredients make the difference.  Whether it’s Mother or Mama, they know best, really.