Photo Elliot Smith - the GUARDIAN
In perusing the UK’s Telegraph (no recipe just a discussion about the auld pancake of yore) and the Guardian this fine Shrove Tuesday, I made a shocking discovery for an American in love with fluffy pancakes topped with butter and syrup: My Great Grandmother enjoyed thin pancakes (like the French) topped with lemon and sugar. Brits wax very sentimental about these.
The Guardian provides an overview of the development of the British pancake going back to 1594. That seems far enough when most humans can’t trace their lineage back more than a few generations.
…[M]odern pancakes are descended from those specifically designed to use up fat before the beginning of Lent, which means they tend to be heavier on the eggs and butter than, say, the fluffy American stack, or the squat Russian blini.
Forewarned is forearmed as they say. Don’t look to these for any dietary benefit only taste.
Here is a website that will help you convert metric measurements. Learn to do this because we are going global.
As for the pancakes, the key to remember is this. The first pancake is always a mess. That’s just how it is for all of us. So let the cook eat the first one. Looks bad; tastes good. From the Guardian:
Makes about 8
125g plain flour
Pinch of salt
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
225ml whole or semi-skimmed milk
Small knob of butter
1. Sift the flour in a large mixing bowl and add a pinch of salt. Make a well in the centre, and pour the egg and the yolk into it. Mix the milk with 2 tbsp water and then pour a little in with the egg and beat together.
2. Whisk the flour into the liquid ingredients, drawing it gradually into the middle until you have a smooth paste the consistency of double cream. Whisk the rest of the milk in until the batter is more like single cream. Cover and refrigerate for at least half an hour.
3. Heat the butter in a frying pan on a medium-high heat – you only need enough fat to just grease the bottom of the pan. It should be hot enough that the batter sizzles when it hits it.
4. Spread a small ladleful of batter across the bottom of the pan, quickly swirling to coat. Tip any excess away. When it begins to set, loosen the edges with a thin spatula or palette knife, and when it begins to colour on the bottom, flip it over with the same instrument and cook for another 30 seconds. (If you’re feeling cocky, you can also toss the pancake after loosening it: grasp the handle firmly with both hands, then jerk the pan up and slightly towards you.)
5. Pancakes are best eaten as soon as possible, before they go rubbery, but if you’re cooking for a crowd, keep them separate until you’re ready to serve by layering them up between pieces of kitchen roll [could be parchment paper - I wouldn't use waxed].
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Unhappy Holiday Dinners at “the Children’s Table”
Proof there were children's' tables at many homes in the 1950s and '60s. This is from the internet.
We used to have big old-fashioned family gatherings at Thanksgiving and/or Christmas at Grandma’s house. Helping Grandma and Grandpa, it was as if everyone were in a flotilla. Deep in conversation, we all floated in family formation from the kitchen to the dining room and back again to set the table and to help make sure everything was ready.
Ah but then something came out that ended the togetherness: a smaller table. We little cousins knew what THAT was: the children’s table – our table. Face it, we loved playing together but we did not want to eat together. We wanted to be with the adults. The adult’s table was only a matter of feet from us but it seemed as if we were on an island off the coast.
After dinner, the adults would sit around the table for hours talking in the residual glow of another good meal at Grandma’s. We children carried plates to the kitchen as they talked. I hurried through this so that I could stand by my parents at their table and listen to the stories. There was a living room filled with comfortable furniture but that table was the center of the universe at holiday time. To move to another room would have broken some kind of spell.
The sad fact about a table for children and another for adults is that it gets the children thinking about what it would take for them to get to the big table. If there were room enough for everyone, we would all have been together. So you think and you imagine a way and then it hits you: death. Someone at that table would have to die before you could have a place. Oh my God did you felt guilty for having such a thought as if the thought itself were a murder weapon. Kids are ripe for tragedy. They despair of a way out. It’s the drama of childhood!
When we all became adults with little people of our own, the reasonable solution finally arrived: dinner out. It was never as cozy or warm or as good as holiday dinner at Grandma’s house but then in this milieu, I usually got to sit next to Grandma herself. That was worth the wait. That’s one of the wonderful moments when you realize it isn’t about a place – it’s about the people in it. Grandma’s table can be anywhere as long as Grandma is sitting at it with us.
©SamHenry – atgrandmastable.wordpress.com. Registration Pending.
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Posted in Commentary, DINNER, HISTORY -SOCIAL, SamHenry, TABLE SETTING - HOLIDAY, TRADITIONS - FAMILY, UNITED STATES
Tagged Children's Table, Dining Room, Eating arrangements, Family Dinners - Holiday, holiday meals