I have been motivated to make pancakes every Sunday morning, just like Almanzo's mother. Addie loves them and makes a huge mess trying to mix the flour and taste the batter. She sometimes cries out for pancakes the next day at breakfast... but once a week is enough for me.
"When Almanzo trudged into the kitchen next morning with two brimming milk-pails, Mother was making stacked pancakes because this was Sunday.
The big blue platter on the stove's hearth was full of plump sausage cakes; Eliza Jane was cutting apple pies and Alice was dishing up the oatmeal, as usual. But the little blue platter stood hot on the back of the stove, and ten stacks of pancakes rose in tall towers on it.
Ten pancakes cooked on the smoking griddle, and as fast as they were done Mother added another cake to each stack and buttered it lavishly and covered it with maple sugar. Butter and sugar melted together and soaked the fluffy pancakes and dripped all down their crisp edges.
That was stacked pancakes. Almanzo liked them better than any other kind of pancakes. Mother kept on frying them till the others had eaten their oatmeal. She could never make too many stacked pancakes. They all ate pile after pile of them, and Almanzo was still eating when Mother pushed back her chair and said:
'Mercy on us! Eight o'clock! I must fly!'"
- From the "Sunday" chapter in Laura Ingalls Wilder's Farmer Boy
