Guest post! I’m lucky enough to be the main beneficiary from all the amazing things you see described on this blog, so with the missus catatonic on the sofa with unwellness, I volunteered to take things TO THE EDGE with the Average Baker’s most brutal assignment yet. The least I could do was to indulge her every whim, right?
110g of plain flour, sifted
pinch of salt
200ml of milk & 75ml of water, mixed together
50g of butter
(makes 12-14 pancakes, apparently)
You may notice the ingredients above aren’t exactly that complex. But it’s the delicacy, the accuracy, the pinpoint control of heat and batter in perfect harmony, that I was aiming for. And with a tough and grumpy task-mistress to please, I can promise you that cooking doesn’t get any tougher than this.
So you may be able to tell I forgot a couple of photography stages up the the point above. Sifting the flour (some of which I deposited, for authentic colour, on the work surface there), then cracking the eggs into a well in the middle, whisking, then swearing while picking thick, lumpy egg/flour mix out of the middle of the whisk where literally ALL of it had congregated. At this stage, I’m about halfway through adding the milk/water mix…
…only to pause to wash up the frying pan, still languishing (next to its fancier Creuset buddy) in the sink after a triumphantly sausagey lunch. Ginger Pig ftw.
Here’s the batter, fully whisked, just before adding the melted butter (“two tbsp” which annoyed me as it always takes me ages to figure out what tbsp means and I usually get it wrong) and giving a final whisk. It’s pretty liquid, kind of a milkshake-y texture. The recipe (dear old Delia) chastises the chef who leaves lumps or traces of flour – I thought I’d done a stand-up job until, putting the leftover mix in the fridge afterwards, I discovered the bottom of the bowl was half an inch of lumps. Yum.
Put two tbsp (hah – see, confusing, innit) into a ladle, and add to a pan which has been on a very hot flame and then turned down to medium, with a wipe of the remaining melted butter. Clever Delia reminds you to use the first ‘cake as a test subject, and mine was, well, flawed but encouraging:
Try not to burn the butter – it’s all a very quick and easy process so you should be fine, but as you can see from the above I added it too soon.Still tasted okay, mind.
Pancake number 2, on the other hand, was too large and slightly undercooked. But hey, I’m such a perfectionist I need *two* test crepes, okay?
This is pancake number 3. I don’t think words can add to its flawless beauty, right?
The topping. Okay, the lemons were a wee bit old and knackered, but they’re very forgiving once you get inside. I pretty much saturated the pancakes, but through her sickly fug, chef managed to croak “MORE LEMON!”, thereby changing this recipe to lemon with sugar and pancakes. *puckered mouth face*
And here’s the finished product, rolled (rather than folded) as per specific instructions from the deathbed. I don’t know about you, but I reckon they look almost good enough to eat.