For Eating Disorders Awareness Week one of our volunteers, Georgie, tells us about her love for pancakes….
Pancakes used to be my favourite food.
I have always struggled to give a single answer to the question: ‘what’s your favourite…’ – I feel too much pressure to get the answer right. How can I be sure that what I say is my favourite?
This was never the case with pancakes.
If asked, the answer would have left my mouth and been uttered so assertively it was as if I didn’t choose them to be my favourite. Pancakes chose me.
When I was younger, on pancake day, I would always eat at least eight pancakes, filling them with lemon and sugar – never anything else. I could not get enough of them. I would eat them until I felt like I might burst, but even then it was a comfortable, joyful burst. I think pancake day was my favourite day of the year. Better than birthdays.
I learned to make them myself. I loved standing by the stove and watching the butter sizzle. It would turn a little brown as the velvety batter dropped from the ladle into the smoking pan, the mixture spreading out into a perfect circle. Bubbles would start to appear. A warm and slightly sweet smell would envelop the room. Everyone waited their turn, expectantly, patiently, at the table. (You can only ever make one pancake at a time.)
I learnt the recipe by heart, safe and ready for whenever I would need it.
As I got older, I fell out of love with my body and I fell out of love with pancakes. I didn’t deserve them (I thought). I stopped celebrating pancake day. I stopped eating sugar. I stopped eating flour. I stopped eating eggs. If asked, I would say I still liked them, but I never ate them. They weren’t my favourite food anymore.
I started making vegan pancakes. Gluten-free, maple syrup instead of sugar. They were smaller, heavier, healthier. I ate them in the morning and never in the evening.
Today, I made myself pancakes. Proper pancakes. With eggs and flour, fried in butter. I flipped them in the air – what a thrill! I topped them with real sugar and freshly squeezed lemon. Rolled up into a sausage. The crunchy crystals of sugar dissolving into the oh-so-sour lemon with each bite. Delight.
I had three for breakfast.
Another for lunch.
I think I’ll have four for supper.
If you need support you can contact Somerset and Wessex Easting Disorders Association (SWEDA) or Beat Eating Disorders UK
