Dang that title sounds good.
Good enough that in the name of honoring this amazing breakfast treat we will ignore the self-incriminating feel of it.
I know what you’re thinking. That if I must insist upon this alliterative annoyance, why not go with something more suitable?
Persnickety perchance? That packs the power of the literary ‘p’.
And persnickety does reference the careful labor demanded by the stubbornly mysterious popover recipe.
Nah, persnickety doesn’t make the cut. Why? Because I am unwilling to log the details that might explain why this recipe delivers breakfast magic on some days, and dense little pancake-flavored hockey pucks on others.
I know first-hand the disappointment of the pop-under. I just haven’t worked out if I should blame the weather or the children or the 250 pound squirrels that leap and twirl upon our deck while the poor treats are trying to cook.
DARN YOU POPOVER! HOW I YEARN TO UNLOCK YOUR ‘TO POP OR NOT TO POP’ DRAMA!
Pernicious. Perfection. Popovers.
The words are a careful caress. They pour forth effortlessly, tumbling one into the next and in so doing create an overall feeling of peace and harmony and goodwill for all mankind.
That’s the kind of power a perfect popover can punch.
Warning (every great recipe should come with a warning):
Your pops could flop. Sometimes, they will not.
Popovers are like that.
Pernicious. Persnickety. And perfectly fabulous when they want to be.