I made pancakes this morning. Not just any kind of pancake...pancake "puffs." My kids were yet again targets of bombarding advertising, but I was the one who eventually exploded. Every day:
"Mom! You have to get Pancake Puffs!"
"Mom! You can make all kinds of deserts!"
"Mom! You can fill them with meat!"
I finally relented (not because you could fill them with meat...that was actually a little off-putting). I bought the "magic" pan.
The pan came. It was a small black cast iron pan with 1 inch wells for batter. I was not impressed. I read the recipe for the batter: Buttermilk. I don't know about you, but I'm not a farmer and I don't regularly keep buttermilk around. So I told the kids "I don't have buttermilk. I'll get it at the store this week."
They pouted. Livi shed a tear. "But I wanted Pancake Puffs."
"I'll make them. I just don't have everything I need to make them JUST right so they're really delicious."
She bought it. And I bought myself another week.
But every morning "Did you go to the market? Did you buy the stuff? Are we going to have pancake puffs? You know, they're supposed to be REALLY good!"
So I bought the buttermilk yesterday and this morning, in my robe, and nursing a small hormonally induced headache, I went to make the friggin' puffs. My children gathered anxiously around me, pulling up chairs so they could belly up to the counter and help.
I looked at the recipe again. Separate 2 eggs and whisk the egg whites till stiff.
What the hell was I making, a souffle? What mother in her right mind has this kind of time and energy in the morning.
Izzy, Ben and Livi were all bouncing around me, fighting over who gets to whisk first, so I just bit the bullet.
I separated eggs, I whipped whites till stiff, I measured out buttermilk (which tastes disgusting by the way), and we whisked, folded and poured batter for pancakes puffs into this glorious pan they all thought would produce magic.
We dotted the center of the batter wells with all kinds of things. Chocolate chips, blueberries, Peach jam (we forewent the meat...). I flipped, I turned, and I turned out 4 batches of 8 golden brown Pancake Puffs, one after the other.
They sucked them down. The Jam ones didn't fly so well, but the chocolate chip seemed to be a big hit so I tried one.
It tasted like a bisquick pancake.
All this time and energy for a round bisquick pancake. With a chip in the middle.
Why do these companies make you go through all the trouble of having buttermilk, whipping and whisking separated egg whites, and creating little ball shapes out of an unneccesarily complicated pancake recipe?
Next time, I'm buying the "shake and pour" stuff. I bet I'll get the same response.
Keep you posted...