Breakfast has always been a humongo deal at the Frantz house on the weekends. It could be a mess of eggs, toast with cherry preserves and maybe some crispy bacon. Sometimes it's homemade pancakes with a patty or two of some of that good ole Jimmy Dean's maple-flavored pan sausage. Just please don't knock on our front door early in the morning; though. Your peepers might get an eyeball-full seeing the cooks all decked out in Denny's Grand Slammin' crisp white aprons, support hose, white tube socks and thick-soled tennie runners. Did I mention we are also high-tech? Our son taught his parents how to make a list for taking down breakfast orders on our cell phone. And when the grown-up kids happen to be home on a weekend, we might even bust out, like Alaskan gold prospectors, the sourdough pot and rustle up some homemade sourdough pancakes. My dad gets all the credit for starting the sourdough tradition back when I was just a kidlet. I vividly recall the day he brought home the sourdough cookbook from one of his many travels. But then my dad was a Gold Rush kinda guy anyway. Yep, I am certain if dad woulda lived back in the mid-1800s, he'd be swishing his little tin pan in a stream somewhere out west looking for gold nuggets. I guess it is in the simplest of ways, as with bringing home a new cookbook, that traditions sometimes get started. Just so you know … if you want to flip some of these hot cakes, you gotta begin by taking out the sourdough pot from the fridge. It contains a magical "sponge" or "starter." And be sure and start the night before to make the pancake batter. It's an interesting process. Our current sponge is probably about 10 years old now. Yup, and if it wasn’t for a gas generator, our sourdough starter would not have survived the last hurricane a couple of years back. If you have never had any, the starter, along with some additional ingredients, makes for some uniquely-tasting thin pancakes traditionally devoured silver dollar-sized. Not for certain why we gravitate to the big weekend breakfasts. Besides tasting so darn good, it musta been how Rick and I were raised. Major healthy stuff like assorted cereals, fruit and yogurt, reserved for the weekdays, most certainly take the rumble seat on the weekends. As it turns out, apparently hubby wasn't looking forward to the usual weekday cold cereal and yogurt because one day last week, on a Monday night no less, I found him rustling around with his head deep into the fridge around 10 bells. It was while checking the door locks and turning out all the lights for the night that I confronted him. "Oh, we are having sourdough pancakes, with fresh blueberries, tomorrow for breakfast," Rick announced like this was something we did every day of the week. Hmmm … novel idea … a weekend breakfast on a weekday. I actually wished I'd thought of it. But that is just one of the things I love most about Rick. In almost 39 years of marriage, there has never been a dull moment … ever. And darn if we'd never even tried to conjour up sourdough pancakes … with blueberries. It was going to be a television first. And let's just say it turned out worthy of an Emmy. We have one of those long, electric griddles that can produce multitudes of pancakes at one time in a jif. Since the sourdough batter is so thin, Rick sprinkled the blueberries once the batter was poured in little dollops on the griddle. The result was a bunch of pancakes that looked like they had bumpy blue chicken pox that exploded. I know … sounds gross … tasted great. You shoulda seen our special child's face. Mimi's baby blues were as big as saucers and they are rather on the large side as it is. And then there was a "bring it on" kind of attitude all over her blueberry-stained face as she scooped the little cut-up pieces of pancakes as fast as her little spoon should shovel. Next week I think I'll shock everyone at the house and make homemade waffles … with raspberries … on a Thursday. Dixie Frantz is a longtime Kingwood resident and newspaper columnist since 1996. E-mail Dixie with your comments at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.