Thoroughly whipped, the moistness of the freshly combined egg, milk, and flour heavily lay on the edge of the spoon loosing a drop here and there on it's way to the welcoming heat that would sizzle and crack, eventually pulling the thick, liquid into a hot, soft mattress receptacle for the steaming liquid from the fruit of the maple tree.
Now what would that be? I don't know about you, but I'm starting to crave pancakes!!
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