The good news: my search for the perfect pancake is over! The bad? You’re not gonna like where it got me.
I think I was in college before I finally got up the courage to tell my mom that I didn’t like her pancakes. Don’t get me wrong—they’re fine. They’re just not my bag. Her pancakes are light and airy from that no-fail combo of baking soda and powder, moist with a hint of tang from buttermilk, and crispy around the edges from a quick fry on the griddle. Sounds good, right? Eh, not for this girl.
In my efforts to find something better, I ordered pancakes at just about every diner, IHOP, hotel, and breakfast joint. I tasted variations like wild blueberry-ricotta and strawberry-rhubarb in the Fine Cooking test kitchen. I tried recipes from respected cookbooks and beautiful blogs (Joy the Baker likes pancakes almost as much as I do!). I’ve tried cooking them in oil, in butter, or in nothing at all. I’ve tried adding yogurt, whole milk, chocolate chips, fruit, and spices. They were all good. (Because really, how bad can a pancake be?) But I had yet to encounter something that straight up altered my existence.
A few mornings ago, I was lying in bed (ok, I was watching Mad Men) and not looking for any reason to budge, when I heard that telltale sizzle of batter hitting a hot pan. I shuffled, bleary-eyed into the kitchen where I found my roommate—who lives off canned soup, trail mix, and Trader Joe’s—actually making something.
Without a word, Kelly grabbed another plate (she doesn’t talk much before 10 am), and started making me a warm little pile to match hers. First bite and I knew—I’d searched the tri-state area over, and the perfect pancake was in my kitchen, at the hands of my culinarily-challenged roommate. (Irony-1. Sharon-0.)
“WHAT IS THIS RECIPE?!” I demanded, with vigor unbefitting the early hour. She walked to the cupboard and took out a box of Aunt Jemima Complete—the kind where you literally just add water. A minor existential crisis ensued. “How could this be the one? I am way too food-snobby for this.” But, the proof is in the pancake, friends. And let me tell you, they are gooooood.
I should not tell you that she layers her hot little short stacks with “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” and Aunt Jemima syrup. But, since we’re being honest, I did it, too…and it was awesome . . . though I’ll bet some good ole butter and Mom’s pecan syrup would blast these suckers out of this world.
The great thing about Aunt Jemima is that people will let you make it for them without all the usual, “Oh, no. You don’t need to do that!” nonsense. What is it about the sight of a measuring spoon that inspires hell-fire guilt in our guests? But with Aunt J, everyone knows you just add water. The pancakes are piled high before the coffee is done brewing.
And, of course, there is something so fulfilling about being able to feed people a warm, stick-to-your-ribs breakfast (or midnight snack) before sending them on their way. I like to think that’s me bringing the Anderson family motto to my new place: It doesn’t so much matter what you’re serving, it’s what happens around the table.
Slap an ill-fitting suit on me and give me some pamphlets. I am ready to go door-to-door as an Aunt Jemima’s Witness.
Preach it, Sister! Let confession begin. My dirty little secret is that I don’t prefer mom’s Macaroni and Cheese. I wouldn’t say I don’t like it, but truth be told – make mine a heap of Kraft ‘Easy Mac’ (Surely their slogan is “Keeping College Kids Fed Since 1937.”) Why does it have to feel wrong to occasionally prefer the easy option? I think we can all agree that 98% of the time the recipes from respected cookbooks and beautiful blogs are worth making. So we should revel in the ease and deliciousness of a box of yellow cake with Pillsbury icing and Funfetti or a bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing without feeling guilty. There’s a time and a place for pancakes with fourteen ingredients, but if Aunt Jemima’s bring pancakes into my life more often than on a lazy Saturday morning, I’m a convert too
I do like my pancake recipe, but I know what you mean about store-bought mix. You’ll actually find it my pantry too, but mostly for getting breadcrumbs to adhere to onion rings and coconut to stick to shrimp.
When David and I go out for our regular diner date on Friday mornings, I frequently order a large single pancake with bacon or sausage. You can bet the guy at the griddle’s not whipping them up from scratch. Fact is, they’re pretty good.
Lord knows I’m hardly the one to cast the first stone on the junk front. You know my weakness for potato chips, popcorn, cheese curls and crackers, fried tortillas in any form. If I start eating any of the above, there are only two ways for it to end. I finish the bag or someone pries it from my greasy little hands.
Boxed macaroni and cheese is a different story. That’s a main-course dinner, and at my age I think I can do better. By the way, Maggy, I’ve developed a new macaroni and cheese recipe for Perfect One-Dish Dinners (out September 2010). I made it for dinner for Sharon and her friends this past summer. They liked it so much they polished it off for breakfast the next morning.
For the more discerning palates 🙂
Light And Fluffy Pancakes
Makes about eight 3-inch pancakes serving 3 to 4
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup milk, plus a tablespoon or so extra if necessary
1 large egg, separated
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Vegetable oil for brushing pan
Mix dry ingredients in a medium bowl. Pour buttermilk and milk into a 2-cup Pyrex measuring cup. Whisk in egg white; mix yolk with melted butter, then stir into milk mixture. Dump wet ingredients into dry ingredients all at once; whisk until just mixed.
Meanwhile, heat griddle or large skillet over strong medium heat. Generously brush pan with oil. When water splashed on the surface confidently sizzles, pour batter, about 1/4 cup at a time, onto the griddle, making sure not to overcrowd the skillet. When pancake bottoms are brown and top surface starts to bubble, 2 to 3 minutes, flip cakes and cook until remaining side has browned, 1 to 2 minutes longer.
Brown Sugar-Walnut Syrup
Makes scant 2 cups
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
1/4 corn light corn syrup
2 cups water
3 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup chopped walnuts, toasted (optional)
Bring sugars, corn syrup, and water to boil in a medium saucepan. Reduce heat and simmer until mixture thickens to a syrup consistency, 10 to 12 minutes. Stir in butter and nuts, cool slightly and serve. (Can be refrigerated up to 1 month.)
I’m feeling better about myself today. I admit that I have Aunt J’s hidden in the back of my pantry, and the kids love them. But I will say, they do ask me on lazy Saturday mornings, “Mom, can you make Aunt Pamcakes this time?”!!!
Thank god there are a few kids out there with discerning palates! (Sharon makes the real smiley faces I only know how to make the sideways ones.)
“aunt pamcakes” !!!! that’s genius!
I don’t think I have ever actually tried to make pancakes from scratch. Maybe I will try to make Aunt Pamcakes (love this name) one of these days. S, you might have to help sort me out though. I am a bit of a disaster in the kitchen!
A craving for pumpkin pancakes sent me to IHOP this fall. Then I found a box mix at Trader Joe’s for pumpking pancakes. They were awesome!
Sharon, I hate to be a hater, but this post is shocking to me. SHOCKING! I know that you never got to try my pancakes during your tenure at FC, but this AJ nonsense makes… my… blood… boil! You’re better than this, Anderson.
Here’s my recipe… http://www.finecooking.com/recipes/classic-buttermilk-pancakes.aspx
And if you don’t make them soon, I’m going to kidnap you and make them for you myself.
put your money where your mouth is mickelsen! make me pancakes, and i’ll be the judge. heck, i’ll amend this post!
Oh Sharon, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your favorite pancake is infinitely more acceptable than mine… as embarrassing as it is, I love the pancakes at McDonalds! They’re just so spongey and uniform… food perfection!
More power to you for telling the truth. Personally, I am a fan of the Krusteaz mix. Morning isn’t the time for long cooking projects for me. So, I like Krusteaz for pancakes and Betty Crocker makes a pretty mean buttermilk biscuit mix (in yellow packet) that isn’t as good as homemade, but it’s about an hour faster!
Pam, I’ve been making your pancakes for years, and we love them! I’m always disappointed when I order pancakes at a restaurant – they are usually way too heavy. I especially love your technique for adding seven blueberries to the cooking pancakes rather than mixing them into the batter. Seven! What precision!
My husband and two sons (7 and 4) always request your blueberry pancakes for birthday morning breakfast. I make them at least once a month anyway, but that’s what they want!
Thank you Stephanie! Sharon can have all the Aunt Jemima Pancakes she wants! More of the good stuff for us, eh?!
Go Kelly! And I know you can cook more than pancakes!
well I just had some of Pam’s newest macaroni and cheese last night and I’m still reeling! The most incredible tastes! Can’t wait to try it, Pam!
Love the pancake story, Sharon. It’s a recipe for healthy family dynamics. We watch you whip up the courage to differentiate from your Food Goddess mom. You gotta love that.
Thanks Mom! And one of these days I’m gonna bust out your pork chop recipe and rock Sharon’s world yet again.
Ok, that’s it. Sharon, you are officially invited to come over for pancakes tomorrow. If you can’t make it, name the date and I will whip some up for you… they’re that easy! And they will change your mind (and this post), I just know it.
I think everybody has their favourite pancake mix. For me, it’s just not worth spending the money on the stuff in a box – over here in Scotland, it’s just flour and sugar in a vaguely bottle-shaped container anyway. Better to do it properly: http://disorganisedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/pancake.html
Maggy, how could you not tell Sharon about the Brownstone pancakes?! Hell, if Guy Fieri thinks they’re life altering, Sharon Anderson certainly will.
Shaz, make a trip to see us some Friday night. We’ll take you there for breakfast on Saturday morning. Hell, I’ll even pay. Peach and Walnut pancakes, here we come.
My mother was a home economist and a home ec teacher and ended up swearing by Hungry Jack — here’s the story!
Just this morning Sharon and I were in one of those diners you described in your story and I ordered my usual–one pancake and 2 sausages. As always that pancake was light, fluffy… and from a box! Although Sharon might not be interested (cottage cheese makes her gag) I was intrigued by your recipe for cottage cheese pancakes.