Cookies From Pancake Mix
Big Mike Geier (aka: Puddles Pity Party) led everyone in a singing of glitz-country classic "I've Got a Tiger By the Tail". One by one, stoic mourners broke and began to sob. As I listened to the memorial, I wandered the gleaming mausoleums in search of a restroom. Alas, a recent cold snap sent the aged pipes at Westview under repair. I unlocked a door to step outside into the Abby's courtyard. Two goth photographers stood smoking outside.
They immediately informed me "There it is, that's what you're looking for." They referred to a 12-foot tall holly bush--the impromptu port-a-potty for this shindig. I disappeared into the holly and returned relieved and smiling. Ria would have been greatly amused by folks peeing in the well-manicured bushes at Westview.
When I returned from my bathroom break, the memorial was ending. People spilled outside the Abby to form a second line to the graveside. Ria, in her vintage Cadillac, was followed by her loved ones in a classic pickup truck, and behind them a brass band with conductor led folks in hymns and spirituals. Hundreds of mourners snaked through the hills of Westview Cemetery, marching their way to Ria's grave. As the second line ended at Ria's graveside, the flasks started coming out.
One young man brought a handle of Wild Turkey, and he alternated sips from the bottle and splashes onto the ground in memory of Ria. The graveside service ended with a reading of "Green Eggs and Ham", and every face was stained with whiskey tears as the funeral service came to a close.
The manicured green and mottled gray pallette of Westview Cemetery was blacked out by the multitudes who came to honor Ria Pell. Everyone stood elbow-to-elbow, laughing through tears over a great person's life. Folks from every walk of life in the South gathered in darkly-dressed grief, and the warm sun came out after days of piercing cold. I stood out there baking in black, an ingredient in Ria's final fond.
Ria brought so many of us flavors to the Atlanta pot. Today we were the dark swath of Westview warmed slowly by the sun Ria brought out. She worked hard to nurture all of these disparate people, and we were ready to be released into the city. The tears and booze deglazed us from the graveside, and after this goodbye we were ready to go back in the Atlanta pot.
We will bind people together, and intensify the flavor of love in the city. After the funeral, everyone gathered at Ria's Bluebird (her much-adored brunch restaurant) to grieve over food. Tres Leches Cake, meatball sliders, pimento cheese on pumpernickel, spicy cold peanut noodle salad, cookies, pies galore, and other goodies lined the windows; and still another smorgasbord from Fox Brother's Bar-B-Q sat in a tent outside. Bartenders poured drink after drink, and the evening ended with fireworks. The day was a Southern-soaked celebration of life lost. Even if your heart breaks, down here friends and fried chicken can get you through.
Make pancakes just like the restaurant does! This recipe contains baking mix, eggs, club soda, and melted margarine or shortening. Place the dry pancake mix into a large bowl. Add the eggs, club soda and melted margarine. Use a wire whisk to mix carefully until there are no lumps (don't be vigorous).
Allow the batter to rest while you preheat your griddle or skillet over medium-high heat. Use about 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in the preheated skillet for each pancake; use 1/2 cup batter for each pancake. Flip pancake only once when you see open bubbles appear on the surface and the edges appear dry around the pancake. You can use this same recipe to make waffles.
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