Speaker 1: Welcome to Aaron Manke's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of
Speaker 1: iHeartRadio and Grimm and Mild. Our world is full of
Speaker 1: the unexplainable, and if history is an open book, all
Speaker 1: of these amazing tales are right there on display, just
Speaker 1: waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities.
Speaker 1: In twenty twenty two, archaeologists uncovered something fascinating carbonized flat
Speaker 1: grain cakes at an Israeli site. To their delicate layers
Speaker 1: preserved in ash dating confirmed that they were baked over
Speaker 1: seventy thousand years ago over hot rocks, making them the
Speaker 1: world's oldest known proto pancakes. Long before wheats was cultivated
Speaker 1: on a massive scale, early humans were experimented with porridges
Speaker 1: and batter like mixtures, turning simple grains into a quick,
Speaker 1: portable meal. That humble beginning set the stage for a
Speaker 1: food that would travel across continents, survive wars, and become
Speaker 1: a breakfast ritual for billions. Fast forward a few thousand
Speaker 1: years to the sunny streets of ancient Greece, where vendors
Speaker 1: flipped Taganiti's thin wheat flour cakes cooked on bronze griddles.
Speaker 1: These were not merely sustenance, though they were part of
Speaker 1: festivals and communal gatherings, and the Romans continued the tradition
Speaker 1: with alita delca, which were sweetened with honey, cheese, and
Speaker 1: sometimes even fruit, and in both cultures the pancake like
Speaker 1: food occupied a dual role, an everyday snack for laborers
Speaker 1: and a ceremonial offering for the gods. The basic formula
Speaker 1: of it all, a liquid, some flour and some heat,
Speaker 1: proved remarkably adaptable, a culinary canvas that could be dressed
Speaker 1: up or stripped down depending on the occasion. As Christianity
Speaker 1: spread throughout Europe, the pancake acquired new layers of meaning.
Speaker 1: No pun intended, I swear. The season of Lent demanded fasting,
Speaker 1: but one of the days leading up to it, known
Speaker 1: as Shrove Tuesday, offered a brief window to use up
Speaker 1: perishable riches, things like eggs, butter, and milk. In England,
Speaker 1: families gathered around a hearth, battering together a simple mixture
Speaker 1: and racing to flip it before the fire burned it out,
Speaker 1: and so naturally the day became known colloquially as pancake Day.
Speaker 1: A tradition that still persists in Britain, Ireland, Canada, Australia,
Speaker 1: and New Zealand. In France and part of the United States,
Speaker 1: the same feast is called Mardi Gras or fat Tuesday,
Speaker 1: underscoring how a practical need to avoid waste evolved into
Speaker 1: a festival ritual. Across the Atlantic, settlers brought their own
Speaker 1: versions of the flat cake. In the American colonies, the
Speaker 1: pancake appeared under many names, hoe cakes, johnny cakes, buckwheat cakes,
Speaker 1: griddle cakes, and flapjacks, reflecting the diverse origins of the pioneers.
Speaker 1: These were often unleavined, made from corn meal or bucke wheat,
Speaker 1: and cooked on a cast iron skillet or even a
Speaker 1: farm implement repurposed as a griddle. The first truly American cookbook,
Speaker 1: American Cookery, written in seventeen ninety six by Amelia Simmons,
Speaker 1: listed two pancake recipes, a hoe cake and an Indian slapjack,
Speaker 1: a corn meal based variation. By the early nineteenth century,
Speaker 1: the word pancake began to dominate the lexicon, and dairy
Speaker 1: entered the batter in earnest as milk and cream replaced
Speaker 1: brandy or wine, signaling improved agricultural yields and a shift
Speaker 1: toward richer flavors. Industrialization transformed the pancake from a homestead
Speaker 1: staple into a mass produced convenience. The advent of powdered
Speaker 1: mixes in the nineteen thirties allowed families to whip up
Speaker 1: a stack in minutes and was perfect for factory workers.
Speaker 1: The cheap, quick breakfast became a symbol of comfort during
Speaker 1: the Great Depression and World War II, when rationing made
Speaker 1: elaborate meals nearly impossible. And meanwhile, back in France, delicate crapes,
Speaker 1: paper thin, rolled with sweet or savory fillings became a
Speaker 1: hallmark of culinary elegance. Russia's bleamy, traditionally served with caviar
Speaker 1: and sour cream, was eaten on the Orthodox celebration of Maslenitas,
Speaker 1: a week long festival bidding farewell to winter. And in
Speaker 1: my wife's own Swedish background, we have Swedish pancakes, something
Speaker 1: that's a staple of our holiday celebrations every single year.
Speaker 1: These global variations prove that the pancake's appeal is not
Speaker 1: confined to any single culture. It's a universal language of simple,
Speaker 1: adaptable nourishment. In recent decades, the pancake has experienced a
Speaker 1: renaissance among food artisans and nostalgic chefs. Heritage grain revivals
Speaker 1: have brought buckwheat, sorghum, and millet back to the griddle,
Speaker 1: and charitable events like National Pancake Day in the United
Speaker 1: States raise millions for children's hospitals, proving that the pancake
Speaker 1: can still serve a higher purpose beyond the plate. From
Speaker 1: a sevent one year old grain cake baked on a
Speaker 1: stone to glossy stacks drizzled with maple syrup on a
Speaker 1: Saturday morning, the pancakes journey mirrors humanity's own, its core
Speaker 1: components of staid, constant, while the ingredients, technology, and cultural
Speaker 1: meaning have shifted with each era and culture. The pancake
Speaker 1: has been a survival food for prehistoric hunters, a sacramental
Speaker 1: offering for Greeks and Romans, and a frontier staple for Americans.
Speaker 1: Whenever we hear the familiar hiss of batter meeting a
Speaker 1: hot pan, we're really listening to a sizzle that has
Speaker 1: spanned thousands of years of human history. Take a moment
Speaker 1: to look around yourself right now, no matter where you
Speaker 1: are in your apartment, car, office, or even going for
Speaker 1: a walk. Odds are you aren't far from an object
Speaker 1: that means something to you. If it's a little knickknack
Speaker 1: that reminds you of an important person or time in
Speaker 1: your life, or maybe it's something you use every day,
Speaker 1: a tool or an article of clothing in the stage
Speaker 1: play of your life. These things are important props. They
Speaker 1: have some sort of utility or meaning to you. Some
Speaker 1: might even last long enough to become a beloved family keepsake,
Speaker 1: which is passed on to your children and maybe even
Speaker 1: your grandchildren. You may see where I'm going with this.
Speaker 1: Once an object is old enough, it feels like it
Speaker 1: gains a weight and importance of its own. Maybe you
Speaker 1: felt this while going through the possessions of a deceased relative.
Speaker 1: But in Japanese folklore, you must be wary of items
Speaker 1: that have been around for this long, because that object
Speaker 1: might have more than just memories attached to it. In
Speaker 1: the Japanese Shinto religion, spirits known as kami influence the
Speaker 1: world around us. Some are as great as the sun
Speaker 1: god Ama Terasu, and others are household objects that have
Speaker 1: been allowed to grow old the exact amount of time
Speaker 1: required is vague. Most say one hundred years, some say less.
Speaker 1: But once enough time has passed, an item will become
Speaker 1: a tsuku mogami, a haunted object. Tsuko mogami are born
Speaker 1: out of all kinds of things, too, sandals, furniture, pots,
Speaker 1: and dishes. Some of the most popular stories feature haunted umbrellas, saddles, kimonos,
Speaker 1: and teapots, a stirrup that a soldier died in, or
Speaker 1: a pot that has been chipped and cracked over many,
Speaker 1: many years. And although it's said that some tsuko mogami
Speaker 1: are benign, most of these stories feature objects that are
Speaker 1: not happy with the way they've been treated. The word,
Speaker 1: when spelled out in Kanji script, literally means grief inflicting God.
Speaker 1: For instance, that stirrup that the soldier died in becomes
Speaker 1: a creature that eternally waits for the return of its master.
Speaker 1: Broken pots and pans wait to be repaired. In fact,
Speaker 1: it's the forgotten and neglected objects that seem to have
Speaker 1: the most potency as spirits, like haunted houses on a
Speaker 1: much much smaller scale. Eighteenth century art of these sorts
Speaker 1: of kami depicts a long abandoned futon dragging itself across
Speaker 1: the floor, gathering forgotten pots and pans as it goes.
Speaker 1: The assembled creature was called the crockery General. Now the
Speaker 1: earliest tsukomogami stories we have are from the year eleven twenty.
Speaker 1: They tell of household objects getting possessed by demons and spirits.
Speaker 1: One particularly grim story tells of an oil pot that
Speaker 1: kills a sick girl. But these stories of possession would
Speaker 1: eventually give way to the more classical tsukomogami, where the
Speaker 1: object isn't possessed so much as it's gained a life
Speaker 1: and perspective of its own. These stories started appearing as
Speaker 1: popular entertainment and folklore in the late fifteenth century, and
Speaker 1: exploded in popularity throughout the sixteenth and seventeen well into
Speaker 1: the Edo period. And what these beings do once they've
Speaker 1: come to life varies from story to story. Some merely
Speaker 1: flee your house out into the wild, seeking a home
Speaker 1: where they won't be mistreated or neglected. In fact, some
Speaker 1: creatures in the world wilderness, like foxes or raccoon dogs,
Speaker 1: were once ssukomogami, who left their original homes and became
Speaker 1: woodland spirits. Other ssukomogami, though refused to leave their homes.
Speaker 1: They instead turn on their owners in revenge for their disuse.
Speaker 1: This revenge seems to be fairly harmless, though it usually
Speaker 1: comes in the form of pranks. But the moral of
Speaker 1: the story is pretty clear. Treat your household items with
Speaker 1: respect and they will not grow to resent you. There's
Speaker 1: more to being a responsible homeowner than keeping your family fit. Apparently,
Speaker 1: you must also show care and respect to the home itself. Nowadays,
Speaker 1: you'll find plenty of references to Ssukomogami in Japanese entertainment,
Speaker 1: from anime to manga and everything in between, but be
Speaker 1: careful never to forget the lesson of the original folk tale.
Speaker 1: As Madonna once said, we live in a material world.
Speaker 1: Our possessions bring joy to us. They make household tasks
Speaker 1: easier and fill a home with purpose. But acquiring such
Speaker 1: an object also comes with a responsibility either way, though
Speaker 1: it certainly gives a whole new meaning to the common
Speaker 1: phrase prized possession. I hope you enjoyed today's guided tour
Speaker 1: through the Cabinet of Curiosities. This show was created by
Speaker 1: me Aaron Mankey in partnership with iHeart Podcasts, researched and
Speaker 1: written by the Grim and Mild team and produced by
Speaker 1: Jesse Funk. Learn more about the show and the people
Speaker 1: who make it over at Grimandmild dot com slash Curiosities.
Speaker 1: You'll also find a link to the official Cabinet of
Speaker 1: Curiosity's hardcover book, available in bookstores and online, as well
Speaker 1: as ebook and audiobook. And if you're looking for an
Speaker 1: ad free option, consider joining our Patreon. It's all the
Speaker 1: same stories, but without the interruption for a small monthly fee.
Speaker 1: Learn more and sign up over at patreon dot com
Speaker 1: slash Grimandmild, and until next time, stay curious.