Happiest morning! Wayne had the day off and the baby and I weren’t required anywhere for hours, so on went the Bizet album and out came a can of pumpkin from the cupboard. It came flying out of the cupboard, really, because the night before I found a recipe for pumpkin pancakes that made me fall asleep and wake up with the taste of maple syrup in my mouth. Nothing was going to get between me and the pumpkin pancakes.

The recipe came from pinchmysalt.com. So many recipes, so beautifully photographed. Lens envy mingled with the maple hysteria. I had to have those pancakes. I got out my mixing bowls, cracked an egg and – thundering Jesus. Double yolk!

I have never seen a double yolk before. It felt like a powerful omen. I felt like I’d found a four-leaf clover. I felt like the luckiest girl in town. Two yolks, side by darling side – double what I would ever expect of any good egg. And there I was, primitive man with a wooden spoon, sacrificing twins to satisfy the gods for a season of exceptional breakfasts. I was just so excited, I whirled them into the pumpkin before I could snap a picture.

Wayne, meanwhile, sat furrowed with consternation: Would pumpkin make the pancakes soggy? Was it too wet and thick to cook in the minutes it takes a pancake to set and brown?

Like a hungry shark moving forward, I cut him off: The powdered ginger was missing. As we pulled ancient garam masala and unopened packets of brown mustard seed out of the spice basket, he came to life and suggested whirring fresh ginger root in the Cuisinart. Stroke of genius.

I tripled the cinnamon, and added clove and allspice and the raw pulverized ginger to the excellent recipe you’ll find below. (It called for cake flour; I used whole wheat.) The pancakes cooked through beautifully, the pumpkin made them more cakey than any pancake I’d ever made before

and the maple syrup brought all those spicy spices right to the fore.

I knew by the second bite that I’d want them again tomorrow.

Ready for the recipe? Click here.

Pancakes were followed by a busy day. When I left the house, the dishes were stacked on the kitchen counter. When I returned, they were replaced by a few small piles of sentimental detritus that Wayne was clearing out of a box. I peered into an old white vase that he used to keep pencils and guitar picks in. I dumped it out, sorted through the junk and peeled a fortune-cookie fortune from the bottom of it. It read, “You are headed for a promotion.” Double yolks? Lucky pancakes.

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