As a kid, Sunday mornings meant my dad, Brian, was making angel fluff pancakes. They were especially delicious in the summer because our yard was filled with blueberry and raspberry bushes. Every week, he would hand me the same banged-up metal bowl and send me into the yard to hand-pick whatever berries were ripe. After, I would stand over his shoulder, watching him stud each pancake with the little berry jewels.
Sadly, my current home is without berry bushes, but the Sunday pancake tradition lives on. The recipe is a source of family pride, and I’m delighted to share it with you.
-Megan Palmer