[Together, that's all - Very simple pancakes]
It was a morning like no other.
That day, we woke up to clouds around us. Some call it fog, but living in the clouds somehow feels more right.
I went down to the kitchen. And started putting pieces back together. One at a time: bottles by the door, plates in the sink, soap on the sponge.
Because that’s how we do. We enter a house. Broken. And slowly make a home. Together. And it all suddenly makes sense, it all suddenly matters.
C., who possibly heard the cliquetis of the glasses against the stainless-steel of the sink, came around. Sat on the seat against the sofa, which still had P.’s massive pillow and the blanket Anna-Sarah got me more than years ago.
She lifted her feet as I mopped the floor. With bleach. Just so. And it smelled like days at the swimming pool.
P. walked downstairs, still wearing her signature pompom hairdo. Already too late to run.
I said pancakes. I heard yes. And just as I had removed the linen fabric off the table, it got dressed again. With four plates. And maple syrup. And strawberry jam.
C. made us coffee. With lots of milk. Of course for her and H., it was not hot enough. But, really, barely warm coffee is one of those things I live for.
A couple of eggs were fried. The upside-down way. And breakfast started.
By then, it was already two pm. But that didn’t matter.
Pancakes tous simples
Adapted from Nigella Lawson’s How to be a domestic goddess.
Pancakes is one of those things that bring people closer. And that’s the very essence of a home-made breakfast. In fact, I can’t recall making pancakes just for me. It always seems to be for a crowd.
That’s possibly why I think it’s necessary to have a recipe you could make with your eyes closed. For me, it’s this one. Straight from the book I used to take everywhere and that witnessed my very first experiments in the kitchen.
So very easy. Dry ingredients on one side. Mix in the eggs and a little milk, just enough to form a paste and prevent lumps. But even if those happen, simply beat the hell out of the batter before adding the remaining milk. Perhaps not the most recommended manoeuvre if you judge by the many recipes I’ve once read, but then the experience says that I’ve never had a problem. Or maybe I was just a tad too sleepy to notice.
If I remember right, Nigella makes hers in a blender. I’ve never tried, but – for the record – my dad makes his – more than just lovely – crêpes this way. Probably worth trying. And the jug would actually make a pretty convient way to pour the batter into the pan instead of using a good old laddle.
Pancakes tous simples
makes 10-12, serves four
225g plain flour
1 tbsp baking powder
pinch of Maldon seasalt
15g caster sugar
2 large eggs
30g butter, melted and cooled
butter, extra for frying
Place all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Combine using a whisk. Make a well in the centre and add the eggs and a little milk – just enough to form a smooth and lump-free batter. Add the rest of the milk whisking as you go. Then fold in the melted butter.
Heat a frying pan over high heat. Add a teaspoon of butter to melt. When it starts bubbling, wipe it with kitchen paper to coat the whole pan. Cook the pancakes one or two at a time until bubbly, then flip over and cook for a further minute.