Our family led a pretty modest existence when I was a child, but weekend mornings were sheer luxury. My brother and I would plod down the stairs and be greeted by a pile of misshapen chocolate chip- or banana-studded pancakes, steam still rising from the freshly griddled ones on top. Our parents would busy themselves with coffee and the paper and generously overlook the fact that we promptly drowned our meal in half a bottle of syrup, then proceeded to cover every item on the table with a sticky film. In those days, we were probably getting Bisquick meets Aunt Jemima, but to our elementary-school palates, trained to fully appreciate the brutally sweet, we couldn't imagine that many things could... More >>>