I’m not a big fan of Thompson seedless grapes. Too sweet, cloyingly so. Yet I bought a bag of them the other day. What was I thinking? A big bag, and they were on the verge this morning of turning into a refrigerator antibiotics experiment. I had to come up with a quick use for them, one that didn’t involve eating them. (Did I say that?!)

I picked them off the stems. With my immersion blender, I created a…mess that I strained for juice. I can drink the juice, I thought. Orange juice is sweet. Apple juice is sweet. I get those down. Grape juice from my Thompson seedless grapes? Urp! Thank goodness there wasn’t too much of it. Most of the mess left after the blending was skin and pulp, the kind of thing vintners turn into lovely brandies or animal feed. I like the brandies,

From the little red chair by the back door, Andy’s spidey sense picked up on something happening in the kitchen….

I couldn’t bring myself to toss the pulp, though, which amounted to maybe two-thirds the volume of the whole. I decided to experiment using it instead of applesauce in pancakes, one way I like to use applesauce. It looked like it might work!

I tossed walnuts in, too. Maybe that’d help. Can’t hurt, I told myself, can’t hurt.

I was hopeful. Four pancakes isn’t a lot, if the pancakes are any good. Four bad pancakes? Um, I think it’s illegal to feed failed breakfast experiments to the ducks at the park. If not, it should be.

Something appeared in the corner of my eye: I was being watched!

Looking positive! They even smelled edible, with a hint of grape wafting off the pancakes on the griddle.

Not my best effort, perhaps, but they smelled and looked edible enough!

“Is it time yet, brother? Is it time?” Dougy took his lead from Andy.

Something else appeared in my peripheral vision.

Andy wasn’t sure, but today might, just might be the day the human shared his food! Andy wanted to be there.

(Yes, that’s Andy on the shopping tote at the top.) Andy gives the signal to Dougy: “Beg, brother! Beg like 5000 stray, starving kitties! Today is the day the human shares his food. I just know it!”

Oh my gosh! This is heavy, gaggy sweet, too much. Andy was on the table long enough to check it out, but even he would not bother with it! I wrapped the remainder in plastic, put it in the refrigerator, and, maybe, will have it for breakfast tomorrow. Now, thanks to strong black coffee, I can get that taste out of my mouth! Poor Dougy! Is his gagging in response to a hairball or are these pancakes really as bad as I think?

Even catsup can’t improve this mess!

I may have started another refrigerator antibiotics experiment.