The dutch baby is filled with childhood memories for me.  I had a friend whose mom would make these for us on visits to their cabin in the mountains. A wide, shallow river ran through the back of the cabin, just off the back deck.  We used to tie logs together, attempting to make a raft. These babies bring back the sound of the river, smell of a fire crackling in the fireplace, and the warmth of life-long friends. I still have the recipe from years ago. It has been spilled on, smudged with batter and lost a time or two.