Pancakes were the first food I ever learned to cook. Every Sunday, my dad and I were allowed to take over the kitchen and make breakfast. The recipe was from this nondescript kiddie recipe book, but I’ve been using the same recipe ever since. I still love making Sunday morning pancakes, but I also bring along this pancake mix whenever I go camping or to a cottage. There is nothing more comforting then waking up to the smell of fresh pancakes.
- 1 1/4 cup sifted flour
- 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 3/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 egg
- 1 1/4 cup 2% milk
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
- Real maple syrup
To make the perfect pancake batter, mix all the dry ingredients into a large bowl, and create a little hole in the middle for the egg to sit.
Whisk the egg gently while slowly adding the milk, soon you will have the perfect lump-free pancake batter!
Start with a nice hot skillet and melt the butter, a teaspoon at a time, turning the temperature down before cooking.
Using a ladle pour approx half a ladle full of batter into the hot, buttery skillet.
When the batter begins to bubble, gently flip the pancake with a spatula, monitoring the temperature closely to avoid burning.
Place the cooked pancakes in a toaster oven on low to keep them warm.
Top with real maple syrup.
Here is my classic pancake recipe, presented in all of it’s worn glory:
Having just watched the line dancing zombie splatterfest Dead & Breakfast, I’m reminiscing about some of the best and worst B&B’s I’ve stayed in during my travels.
As my boyfriend can attest to, I love – love – breakfast buffets. One of the more unique breakfast buffets that I had the pleasure of devouring was in Japan. We stayed in this quaint, traditional inn called a ryokan in the town of Hakone.
Each room had authentic sliding doors that are called fusuma and we slept on tatami mats that were originally considered an item of luxury (fancy!). For breakfast we were treated to a complete Japanese breakfast, buffet-style. I’m not quite sure what I ate, but I do remember the delicious fish, it was so fresh that it melted in my mouth.
Luckily, I have never been barricaded by a swarm of zombies, but the B&B in Bolivia definitely lacked appeal and stands out as one of the worst places I’ve stayed. I needed a last minute accommodation in the small town of Sorata, nestled high in the Bolivian mountains. This was supposed to be one of the nicer B&Bs in the town, full of “European charm”. Perhaps they meant Eastern European charm as my room was so sketchy that I slept in my sleeping bag and kept my knapsack packed, avoiding all contact with anything in the room. The security features weren’t exactly reassuring either.
Needless to say, I didn’t stay for breakfast.