Today I made my 22 year old son Norwegian pancakes before he headed back to Los Angeles, where he now resides. A Norwegian pancake is a basic egg crepe rolled up with butter and jelly (or sugar). My mother called them 'Rollie Pollies' when I was a girl. They were my favorite breakfast meal! I would wake up to the wonderful buttery aroma, then immediately jump out of bed and race to the kitchen where I would down 5 of them in one sitting. This tradition was passed on for my sons to enjoy as they grew up. I would flip the crepes up in the air from the pan to turn them over and their eyes would light up in amazement. I would make my boys 'Rollie Pollies' at least once a month on those lazy Sunday mornings where there wasn't a soccer practice, music festival, or a roller hockey game to race off to.
Today was the first time I made them after becoming a vegan. I've been a 96% vegan for over 4 months now. Today the 'Rollie Pollies' smelled different to me. I thought I messed up the recipe as all I could smell were the eggs. It was a strong and quite unpleasant aroma. Thinking I must have done something wrong, I actually went to look up the old recipe that I have had memorized for decades. I did not stray in the least. I checked the egg carton to make sure the organic eggs had not expired. I asked my son if they smelled different to him and he said no. This was very strange to me. Is it a next phase of Veganism to start despising the smell of eggs and meat?
I proceeded to eat my granola cereal with Silk soy milk, fresh blueberries and bananas while I watched my son devour 3 'Rollie Pollies' without missing a beat. It was a joy to watch and it brought back memories of both my son's youth and even my youth. Some meals which have been passed down through generations are heartfelt traditions that would be difficult to break. By preparing them on rare occasions (like before my son takes off on a long journey), how can it hurt?
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