Dear Diary, Salty Surprise!

August 18, 2024.

Let me set the stage: I was curled up in bed, battling some next-level cramps, and desperately craving something normal to eat. After nearly 24 hours of feeling like I was on a nauseous rollercoaster, I needed something simple and comforting. Something like…pancakes!

I’ve had some success with YouTube chefs before—remember that one time I made a chocolate cake that didn’t turn into a disaster? So, I thought, why not trust the internet again? What could go wrong with pancakes?

Famous last words.

I clicked on a video from Chef YouTube, feeling pretty confident. I’m not one for complicated recipes. If a dish has more than five ingredients, I’m out. But this pancake recipe seemed straightforward: one cup of flour, two spoons of sugar, and…two spoons of salt?

Now, normally, I avoid salt like it’s a bad ex, but Chef YouTube looked so happy in the video, and I figured, “When in doubt, trust the chef.” My inner African spirit was screaming, “Toyo, don’t do it! You’ll regret this!” But I ignored that voice because, you know, YOLO.

So there I was, dumping two spoons of salt into the batter, my spirit still whispering warnings that I was about to embark on a salty voyage I might not return from. But I pressed on, telling myself that recipes are like life—if you don’t follow the steps, things can get messy.

Then came two spoons of baking powder. “It’ll rise and be fluffy,” I reassured myself. I added an egg, some milk, and a bit of oil, feeling like a true culinary artist. The batter looked amazing, and I was ready to create the fluffiest, dreamiest pancakes of my life.

Oh, how wrong I was.

The pancakes came out looking perfect—golden brown, fluffy, Instagram-worthy. I was already patting myself on the back for this culinary win when I took a bite.

SALT. So much salt. More salt than the Atlantic Ocean. It was like I had accidentally summoned the ghost of Lot’s wife, and she had decided to make herself at home in my pancakes. My beautiful, fluffy pancakes had been transformed into a sodium-packed nightmare.

But did I give up? Nah. I’m nothing if not resourceful. I quickly turned from pancake mode to sandwich mode. I slapped some salad, tomatoes, and eggs between those salty layers and pretended it was all part of the plan. Pancake sandwiches? Why not?

As I choked down my salty creation, I realised I probably should’ve listened to that voice in my head. You know, the one that said, “Toyo, this is a bad idea.” But nooo, I had to trust the process. And what did I get for my troubles? A culinary disaster that could give anyone high blood pressure just by looking at it.

And to make matters worse, my conscience had to chime in with its two cents. It asked me to confirm if I had used the same tablespoon as the chef—twice. I played the video back six times and confirmed it, even after being convinced that I had followed the instructions perfectly. But let’s face it, common sense took the day off when I decided to make those pancakes.

So what’s the moral of this story? Cooking isn’t for everyone, and sometimes, you really should listen to that little voice in your head. Common sense is a rare and precious thing—especially when it’s drowned out by hunger and YouTube chefs who look way too happy.

Will I try making pancakes again? Probably. But next time, I’ll keep the salt far, far away. Experience is the best teacher, after all, and this salty summary is one lesson I won’t forget anytime soon.

So there you have it, folks. The tale of how I went from pancake perfection to sodium overload in just a few easy steps. Until next time, may your pancakes be fluffy, your salt shakers stay in the cupboard, and your YouTube adventures be less disastrous than mine, Amen!

Yours Truthfully,

Did you read, God – my flatmate? https://oluwatoyosiabikoye.com/god-my-flatmate/

Adulthood: The Myth of Common Sense https://oluwatoyosiabikoye.com/adulthood-the-myth-of-common-sense/

The Parallel Rosary: A Mother’s Faith https://oluwatoyosiabikoye.com/the-parallel-rosary-a-mothers-faith/