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What's that box in the back? It's Bisquick It never occurred to me that a boy whose idea of fine dining is French fries and a corn dog could turn out to be a food snob. But there was my son one recent morning, passing imperious judgment on the pancakes I was mixing up for him and a friend. He sauntered through the kitchen, still full from a midnight snack of Corn Pops and Pepsi. Then he stopped by the kitchen counter, where I was measuring baking mix from a box. "Mom!" he said archly, hoisting a 12-year-old eyebrow. "Bisquick? I'm surprised at you!" Well, excuse me, I thought. Since when do you know Bisquick from baby powder? Apparently he knew enough, however, to pick up the disdain some folks feel for the boxed baking mix nearly 70 years after its invention. Bisquick was created in 1930, when a traveling salesman from General Mills was served hot biscuits minutes after he ordered a meal on a late-night train. The cook's secret, he discovered, was to pre-mix the lard, the flour, the baking powder and the salt. When General Mills chemists duplicated the cook's efforts, the result was a time-saving baking mix aimed at easing the chores of harried housewives. But like so many labor-saving inventions, Bisquick has lost its modern sheen. Many cooks today, myself included, regard pre-mixed biscuit batter as an unacceptable shortcut, a sacrifice of flavor, texture and taste all for the sake of a little time. So, I'll admit my son inherited his better-than-Bisquick attitude from his mother. In recent years, I've made it a point of pride to cook most things from scratch. Call it culinary arrogance or simply a dedication to good food, but I like pancakes mixed from individual ingredients. I don't think it's especially difficult to mix a batch of fresh biscuits, pastry blender or no. I want to know exactly what's in my Belgian waffles, thanks. Still, when the Bisquick folks sent a sample of their new reduced-fat version of the mix, I took it home to try. I figured it couldn't hurt to test it on a pair of pre-teen boys. Turns out the pancakes were pretty good, of course. The boys ate six apiece and asked for more. Once again, food snobbery subsided in the presence of extra butter and warm syrup. I took the occasion to reconsider my Bisquick aversion. I know part of it dates back to my days as a newlywed. Itching to feel like a real, married adult, I invited the couple who lived in the apartment below us up for coffee and dessert. I proudly mixed up what I thought was a tasty coffee cake, an invention that included Bisquick and apricot jam. I spent the last of that week's meager grocery money on good coffee and pretty candles. Little did I know, the neighbors from below were professional chefs living in Oregon between jobs. When I offered them my apricot concoction, they each took a bite, then stopped. "Is this BISQUICK?" the woman chef said, nearly choking on the words. I wanted to sink through the floor with embarrassment. It was years before I bought another box of baking mix. Today, of course, I know that the fancy chefs were simply rude. The correct response to hospitality of any kind is always: "Thank you." And I know now that Bisquick can be a handy helper in a kitchen pinch. I'm not too proud to say I've made my share of impossible pies. I've been known to recreate that apricot coffee cake a time or two. Bisquick dumplings are a good way to top a chicken stew. My son probably will always prefer pancakes from scratch. But I know that the boy who likes corn dogs also appreciates baking-mix hotcakes, despite his initial disdain. If you'd like to give the food snobs in your house something to think about, try the gussied-up versions of Bisquick pancakes below. Canned pumpkin, extra sugar and a little spice lends a fall flavor to these breakfast favorites. Spicy Pumpkin Pancakes 2 1/3 cups baking mix 1 1/4 cups milk 1/2 cup canned pumpkin 2 tablespoons sugar 2 tablespoons vegetable oil 3/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice 2 eggs Heat griddle or skillet over medium-high heat on electric griddle to 375 degrees F. Grease with cooking spray, vegetable oil or shortening. (Surface is ready when a few drops of water sprinkled on it dance and disappear. Stir all ingredients until blended. Pour by slightly less than 1/4-cup amounts onto hot griddle. Cook until edges are dry. Turn; cook until golden. Yield: About 18 pancakes. JoNel Aleccia writes about food and family issues. Reach her at 776-4465 or by e-mail at [email protected] Mail Tribune Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, Oregon USA