Thursday, May 3, 2012

Ye Olde Panny-cakey

Pancakes. You would have to be a complete asshole not to like them. What's not to like?! They are fluffy, friendly, sweet little circles of joy that can be embellished with anything from fruit to chocolate or yoghurt to ice cream. Ok, so if you don't like sweet things, you're kind of forgiven, not so much forgiven, but I'll at least understand your argument, and feign acceptance. 

I like to think of pancakes as being like one of the Latin European languages, and Latin as a metaphor for their ingredients. French, Italian & Spanish all have Latin roots; Pancakes, Crepes & Pikelets share the same base ingredients, and although they're distinctly different, they really are part of the same family.

I had a go at making American style pancakes for the first time, which are much fluffier than the standard. Once complete, I finished them with bananas, strawberries, blueberries, icing sugar, Greek yoghurt & a drizzle of manuka honey for that distinctly wild New Zealand flavour. Perfection.

I also have to give a little thanks to my formerly local Hackney cafe; Mouse & De Lotz, for inspiring me to make my own pancakes, because I was thrilled when they brought  theirs out in this little cast iron skillet, it's just too cute. 

Another Hackney café (or Islington if you want to be über pedantic) that's making some sexxxy pancakes (and naturally, amazing coffee) is Tina We Salute You. I had the pleasure of rediscovering physalis berries via their pancakes, as it's the crown jewel on the cascade of fruit. (I had my own photograph of these pancakes, but my camera got stolen before I could download it, so this photo is borrowed from City Owls)

Upon receiving these pancakes, I rushed to the barista to ask if she knew what this mystery fruit was called, babbling and probably looking slightly maniacal, I explained that I was just excited because I had only ever seen physalis once when I was 8 years old on a summer holiday in Motueka, & it was extremely nostalgic to bump into what I had almost believed to be a figment of my childhood imagination. Strangely enough, she knew exactly what I was going through, as she also hadn't seen them for about 10 years until she started working at TWSY, but fondly remembers eating them a lot as a young girl when visiting her Grandma to South Australia. Stories about Grandmas and physalis. Better than Grandmas with syphilis. Definitely better.
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