Strawberry Pancakes

This is a public service announcement brought to you by the National Highway Traffic Safety Council. Well, kinda.

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon. I went to the grocery store like I do every Wednesday afternoon, picking up the usual fare with one exception—a watermelon. Spring was in the air, it was 50 degrees outside, and it seemed like a good decision. Especially since it was on sale.

After making my purchases, I packed the groceries in the backseat of the car and headed home. I like to drive slow with a car full of groceries because I don't want them to roll around and make a big mess of the backseat—it's a very big pet peeve of mine. As I was driving down a steep hill, the car in front of me stopped suddenly which meant that I stopped suddenly. It's a real shame my groceries didn't get the memo. They flew about the backseat like birds just released from a cage. And that precious watermelon of mine, the one that seemed like such a good idea only moments before, bounced out of the bag, off the seat, and managed to hit me straight in the side.

I was hit by a watermelon. In a car.

Explain the physics of that one to me.

After the initial shock of did-I-really-just-get-walloped-by-a-watermelon? wore off, I realized I had managed to puncture it with my elbow and it was now releasing watermelon juice at an alarming rate. As in getting-sticky-watermelon-juice-all-over-the-front-seat-of-my-car alarming. The orderly nature of my groceries had been shot to hell and my front seat was beginning to look like a gory crime scene.

I was peeved.

By the time I made it home, my only goal was to get that watermelon to the kitchen sink as fast as possible. It was a perfect plan except for one caveat—I'm clumsy. Yes, I managed to drop the wounded watermelon in the garage. Yes, it cracked open and shot watermelon juice everywhere. Yes, I had a second crime scene on my hands.

By the time I finally got it to the sink, it was in shambles—a shell of its former delicious self. So I did what any self-respecting person would do, I dug into the remains with a fork and cried over spilled watermelon. You would have too.

The moral of the story is to wear your seatbelt. You never know when you'll be hit by a flying watermelon. It's probably a good idea to buckle your watermelon in too.

Better yet, next time save yourself the trauma and buy strawberries instead.

These strawberry pancakes are light, fluffy, and thick. Packed with strawberries, you'll have a burst of berry flavor in every bite (which is a welcome sight when you're desperate for spring). The pancakes are not overly sweet, so you have the power to control how sweet you'd like your breakfast. I enjoyed these drizzled with a little honey and maple syrup. These pancakes make for a lovely spring brunch.

Strawberry Pancakes

Yields 4-6 servings

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
Pinch of salt
1 egg
1 cup milk
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons butter, melted
2 cups sliced strawberries

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Make a well in the flour with a spatula and pour in the egg, milk, honey, and butter. Mix until just combined. Fold in the strawberries.

Pour 1/4 cup of batter onto a heated griddle and cook each side until lightly browned. The batter may look slightly "doughy" when fully cooked; this is just a result of the moisture in the strawberries. Serve hot! Sprinkle with powdered sugar or drizzle with honey and maple syrup.