The skies were so promising on Saturday morning.
They shone. Glistened, even, as the light filtered through my half-heartedly drawn curtains and past the fingers that attempted to shield my too-sore eyes.
I rolled over and buried my head under the largest pillow I could locate with my still-shut eyes.
A voice from the doorway.
It was the Bean. Awake and curious.
“Hello? Cherlie?” she tried again.
“Um… it’s Saturday morning.”
She paused. A more direct approach would be needed.
“On Thursday you said that on Saturday you’d make pancakes.”
“And now it’s Saturday!”
“You don’t have to if you’re too tired though…”
I was tired.
Tired from the whirlwind trip to Malaysia and back, from the week back at work, from being ok, from being awake, from thinking and planning and unthinking and unplanning.
But somehow, I wasn’t too tired for pancakes. It’s hard to be too tired for pancakes.
I was, however, too tired to make the trip out to the shops to pick up the ingredients I needed for my usual recipe so decided to do what I could with what I had.
A bag of miniature apples, purchased for a sweet treat that never eventuated in amongst the flurry of activity that overtook the month past.
Some tubs of Chobani yoghurt, thoughtfully sent over mere days before I leapt on a place.
Buckwheat flour from my last batch of pancakes (but not enough to make said recipe).
And butter. Delicious, golden butter.
The Bean was set to work peeling and grating whilst I browned the butter and rubbed sleep from my eyes.
She painstakingly measured out brown spices
“Are these the same? They look the same but they smell different.”
“That would be because they’re different. Smell them.”
She identified ingredients and popped them in the bowl.
“Bean… are you sure you put baking powder in? You didn’t use the gelatine powder sitting on the counter did you?”
“No. I just took that out because it was in the way… If I put gelatine in the pancakes would that make them jelly pancakes?”
And not-too-long later, we were seated and stood and perched around the kitchen bench wolfing down a late second breakfast.
Yoghurt, apples and berries for me.
Apples and chocolate-yoghurt sauce for the Bean and her mister. (I made this by mixing dark chocolate together with a good dollop of yoghurt in a saucepan and stirring madly as it melted).
Grins all round.
(Until it thunderstormed and I got caught in the wet whilst trying to purchase a beanbag. But that’s a story for another time and another place.)
apple & yoghurt pancakes
makes about 10 pancakes
you will need:
3/4C self raising flour
1/4C buckwheat flour
1tsp baking powder
1/2tsp ground cinnamon
1/4tsp ground nutmeg
1/2C yoghurt (I used chobani 0%)
how to do it:
1. We’re going to brown that butter baby! Heat the butter in a small saucepan until it totally melts. Now keep heating it (over a low flame) until it starts to go slightly brown. You’ll see solids starting to form and sinking to the bottom and everything will start to smell a little smoky. Stop at this point and let the butter cool.
2. Peel and grate the apples. I used four tiny apples and grated them using the coarsest setting to get about 2 cups of loosely packed apple gratings.
3. Mix the dry ingredients (two flours, baking powder & spices) together in a bowl. Add the browned butter, eggs, yoghurt and apple and stir to combine. You’ll end up with a really thick, clumpy mixture.
4. Heat a saucepan up and brush it with a bit of oil. When the pan is hot, dump two half-cup lumps of batter on the pan, then pat them down into circles and smooth them out a bit with the back of a metal spoon. Unlike most pancake batters, these won’t spread into nice circles of their own accord. They need to be forced down.
5. When the top of the pancake is starting to look dryish, almost as if a slight skin has formed, flip them over and cook the other side. They’ll be done when you can give them a good thump and hear them go “thud”.
6. Serve with more yoghurt and some fresh slices of apple. (Or, if you are that way inclined, chocolate sauce. I made mine with dark chocolate and more yoghurt over a low flame).