The brown armchair in my living room has become the scapegoat for everything that is wrong with my life. It’s not a bad-looking chair, really. It has a nice shape and swivels around in a circle. The nubby brown fabric, however, hangs onto dog hairs for dear life. It will soon be a sweater chair. The longer I sit on my couch and stare down the sweater chair, the more I despise it. It must go.
I’m going on about the chair because last week’s pantry makeover was followed by a borderline obsessive-compulsive fall cleaning spree. I’ve gone through every belonging I’ve stuffed in this place and filled my trunk with junk destined for goodwill. It had to be done. The sheer volume of stuff that I own had been weighing on my psyche. The state of my living quarters is representative of my state of mind, so I’ve felt extra scatterbrained as all the visible projects have been calling for my attention. I’m finally feeling better now that I’ve cleared out some space.
As nice as it is to keep stuff around in case I need it someday, there’s also the burden of ownership, of upkeep. Do I really need a whole box full of mystery cords or a tin of my grandmother’s thimbles? No and yes. I’m also in the process of sprucing up my decor, which includes replacing the brown hand-me-down armchair. I wanna be a grown-up! With grown-up furniture! Stomp, stomp, stomp. Sifting through all my things has made me nostalgic, too. The old newspaper wrapped around a vintage ceramic Santa Clause smelled like my grandmother Mimi’s house. One whiff transported me from my bedroom in Kansas City back in time to Mimi’s kitchen in small-town Oklahoma. Sleepy eyed, I pattered across the cool laminate flooring as the smell of bacon filled the air. Mimi smiled and poured Welch’s grape juice into a little glass cup with dinosaurs on it. My favorites.
Pancakes remind me of my dad. Every time my mom went out of town, my little brothers and I got to eat pancakes for dinner. He always turned it into a silly display of fatherly strength, whipping the Bisquick batter so fast we could hardly see the whisk. And over the past week, every time I check the news, I hear my dad’s exasperated voice at the dinner table. “Can’t we all just get along?” These pumpkin pancakes have sentimental potential. They’re flavored with warming spices and made hearty with oat flour, which you can easily make out of old-fashioned oats (see notes). I often hear that the base recipe for these orange cakes, my gluten-free banana oat pancakes, yields your all-time favorite pancakes. That’s quite a compliment. Dare are I suggest that the pumpkin version is even better?
More Pumpkin Treats to Enjoy
Easy Pumpkin Cheesecake Cups Gluten-Free Pumpkin Waffles Healthy Pumpkin Bread or Healthy Pumpkin Muffins (both offer oat flour options, see gluten-free recipe note) Perfect Roasted Pumpkin Seeds Whole Wheat Pumpkin Pancakes
View more pumpkin recipes here.
Gluten-free oats: If you need these pancakes to be gluten-free, be sure to purchase certified gluten-free oat flour or certified gluten-free old-fashioned oats. How to make your own oat flour: To make oat flour out of old-fashioned oats, simply pour one cup of oats into a food processor and process until it looks like fine sand. See pictures here. Make it dairy free: Use non-dairy milk like almond milk and coconut oil instead of butter. Make it egg free: Replace the eggs with flax eggs (I’ve heard this works well from other commenters, but haven’t had a chance to try myself). Update September 2024: I’ve improved this recipe, adding ¼ cup more milk to thin the batter, increasing the maple syrup from 1 teaspoon to 2 tablespoons to help prevent burning against the pan, and increasing the amount of spice for more autumnal flavor.
