{Recipe Redux} American Pancakes + A Dinner Party

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I squirmed down in the seat of the bus, tucking my knees up against the seatback, and in those early morning hours, slowly ate my dry cereal. Out the window, the industrial nature of the city made way for the green the country is known for, and the boys’ lilting voices conversed around me in their various dialects, some still too unfamiliar to catch all the words.

Later, on the way back from our class trip, my odd behavior of eating dry cereal was questioned, and subsequently we got on the topic of American food. Most of my Horticulture cohort, a small group of eight guys save Orla, had been to America the previous year. I was joining them for the semester at University College Dublin, and as is often the case of cross-cultural friendships, we began bonding over food. The boys raved about their experiences with American food. Even the bread, it’s so sweet, Ollie incredulated. And then he was on about the pancakes. Pancakes, in his perception, were the epitome of American deliciousness.

The others nodded in agreement, pancakes were quite nice. It was decided we’d have a class pancake party and I volunteered to make them proper American-style pancakes.

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On the night of the party, a mid-week November evening, Conor, Orla and I set off for Dan and Liam’s house in Stillorgan with all the fixings. Conor and I had shopped at Tesco the night previous, and there I learned pancakes really were rare in Ireland. Though I had planned to anyway, we were to make them from scratch because the Irish grocery didn’t then stock specialty items like pancake mix.

Once at Dan and Liam’s, I entered a typical college-boy-house, much the same as here in the states. Good thing I brought ALL the supplies, I thought, as I took over the kitchen. There wasn’t much in the way of cooking essentials in the cupboards. As I whipped up the batter, Dan, Liam, and their roommates, Joe, Terry, and Tim made up a bunch of sandwiches. I’m making you all pancakes for dinner, I exasperated. Oh, those are dessert, they replied. We wouldn’t eat sugar and dough for dinner. It soon became apparent the experience would be an education for us all.

As I worked on what I endearingly call a student stove—aka any old stove that is quite fussy, has burners that shouldn’t be used, and is often found in a college apartment—I got a fair share of ribbing over those first few throwaway pancakes until the heat settings were correct. Then, when it came time to eat, I attempted to show the group the typical way to eat an American pancake, in a big stack with maple syrup. Maple syrup wasn’t exactly easy to come by, however, so we improvised with golden syrup instead. Eating more than one at a time was viewed as outlandish, and the group much preferred to roll them up like Orla, with sugar and lemon. This is the Irish way to eat a pancake, Orla explained. Some of the others smeared one or two with chocolate spread.

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The whole experience was enlightening, and one for which I’m deeply thankful. Back home, I lived as part of a quartet of girls who loved to host dinner parties. At the time, though I loved cooking for them and our impromtu visitors, I didn’t get the appeal of hosting dinner parties. There was too much pressure, and I didn’t want to disappoint.

The pancake party was my first experience hosting a dinner, and though it went nothing like how I imagined (after the pancakes, it quickly morphed into the type of house party the Irish are more typically known for), it stands out in my memory as a learning experience of cultures and customs, of realizing the similarities amongst college students no matter the location. It was also an opportunity to practice going with the flow and adapting with a room full of people wanting to be fed. Most of all, it helped me to realize how much I love to entertain and cook for others.

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Gluten-Free + Vegan Pancakes, adapted from Celiac Teen

The Recipe Redux asked us to share a food memory for which we’re thankful this month. The recipe below is the one we often use for gluten-free, dairy-free pancakes. They have a slightly softer texture because of the flours and are also vegan as I’ve found better results when using a flaxseed mix instead of eggs. I’ve found the flour mix to be fairly flexible and often use 2 cups of my Gluten-Free Flour Mix in place of the three flours below. I often pour the batter into the waffle iron and make waffles instead, as we’re still cooking on a student stove and there are always casualties! This recipe is the one I used back in 2008 for the party. It was my favorite for a long time and I’d still recommend it to the gluten and dairy-eating crowd. 
 
Ingredients
1 cup millet flour
1/2 cup brown rice flour
1/2 cup arrowroot starch
1/2 tsp. xanthan gum
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
2 Tbs. ground flax mixed with 6 Tbs. warm water
1 1/2 cups almond milk
2 Tbs. raw apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup canola oil
(1/3 cup additional almond milk, if needed)
  • Whisk the vinegar into the almond milk and set aside for a few minutes.
  • Heat your skillet or griddle where you will be cooking the pancakes. They’ll cook over medium-high heat.
  • Whisk together the flours, xanthan gum, salt, baking powder, and baking soda in a large bowl.
  • In a separate bowl, whisk together the flax-water mixture, milk and oil. Pour the liquids into the dry ingredients and whisk lightly until combined.
  • Lightly oil the skillet, and use about 1/4 cup of batter per pancake. Flip the pancakes when the bubbles appear on top and the bottoms are browned.
  • Cook on the second side until cooked through and browned on the bottom.
  • If you find the batter to be too thick, or becoming thicker as you cook the pancakes up, add some milk and whisk until fully incorporated. 
 

Za’atar-Spiced Millet + Chickpeas with Baba Ghanoush

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In between eating roasted pumpkin and winter squash in everything possible because it’s already November, I finally used up all the garden’s eggplants. There were as many growing in my tiny space as were in the school garden and given their late start last spring, they took seriously forever to ripen.

The real question is why did I plant so many in the first place? Quite simply, I like eggplant. Most people don’t. Like a little girl, I could say I like it because the fruit is purple and a funky shape and that name, egg plant. But there’s more. I began my eggplant-eating-tendencies years ago after trying it for the first time at The Olive Garden. My group thought I was crazy for ordering, of all things, something vegetarian and with a slimy vegetable as the main show. I was just beginning to show the “let’s-eat-all-the-weird-to-rural-Eastern-Oregon-food” side of my personality, and everyone else’s strong opinions made me like the vegetable even more.

All these years later, I still love eggplant because it’s often unloved and misunderstood–and because it can be seriously good. It pairs especially well in Middle Eastern food, and according to Ottolenghi, in Jerusulem it is often featured in every meal.

 

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I whipped roasted eggplant into baba ghanoush a few weeks back and then, needing something for lunch on a busy day, threw all these ingredients in a dish before running out the door. I suspected something magical was in the works, and though leftovers for lunch is not always exciting, this combination of baba ghanoush, millet, chickpeas, za’atar, and kale goes together super well. It was so good that a decent amount of all that eggplant made its way into baba ghanoush for the sole purpose of making this.

If you’re at all like me and tend to have beans and grains and random spreads and spice mixtures like baba ghanoush and za’atar hanging out, this will go together super quick. If not, it will take a bit more time, though it’s definitely worth it!

 

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Za’atar-Spiced Millet + Chickpeas with Baba Ghanoush, serves 1
1 cup cooked millet
1/2-2/3 cup cooked chickpeas
2-3 Tbs. Baba Ghanoush, or more to taste
a big pile of chopped kale leaves
1-2 tsp. za’atar, to taste
chopped cilantro, optional
 
Toss all the above together. Eat warm or at room temperature.
 
 
Baba Ghanoush, adapted from The New Book of Middle Eastern Food
1 lb. eggplant (about one large)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
salt, to taste
2 Tbs. tahini
Juice of one lemon
1/3 tsp. cumin
 
Split the eggplant in half length-wise and roast, cut side down at 425 degrees F, until very soft inside (about 30 minutes). Let it cool slightly and then peel the skin off and discard. In a small dish, mash it all up with a fork and then stir in the remaining ingredients until they come together. Adjust seasonings to taste. 
 
 
Za’atar
You can buy this spice mixture, but it’s easy to make yourself. Combine 1 part ground dried thyme, 1 part lightly toasted sesame seeds, 1/4 part sumac, and salt to taste.
 
 

Hazelnut, Pear & Oat Muffins

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We arrived just as the wind picked up and rain came on. Most market-goers had deserted and the farmers stood under their tents with their arms raised high, holding on to the beams.

 

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I loaded up the last of Larry’s pears and as we chatted I piled them on to his scale. He had to let go of his tent to weigh and figure a price and Will quickly reached up and held it down for him.

 

The significance of our simple interaction struck me later. It was one small moment in an ordinary day. The exchange reminded me of how we rely on each other. Constantly. Unnoticeably. And it’s there in those quietly normal experiences, when we’re not realizing the significance, that who we are is revealed.

 

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When I observe the simple interactions that make up most days, I realize I am often either engrossed in my own storm, focused on holding down my tent and getting through, or I am asking, demanding, pushing of others. I like to think the latter, the pushing, helps people become better, reach higher, risk further. I see Will though, and so many others in my life, who reach out to listen, support, and give of themselves easily. In the ordinary everyday, I’d like to do a little more of the holding up of others’ tents.

 

Watch your interactions today. Are you just holding on, hoping the wind doesn’t blow away all that you’ve been working for? Are you asking and/or demanding of others? Are you instead an encourager or perhaps a helper, willing to take over for another for a while? There’s significance here in the mechanics of our connections. Pay attention. The roles we play in these small moments make up who we are, who we ultimately become.

 

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Hazelnut, Pear & Oat Muffins, makes 12 standard or 8 large
Inspired by Megan Gordon’s Whole Grain Mornings
 
3/4 cup oat bran, certified gluten-free
1 1/2 cups gluten-free flour mix
3/4 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. ground cardamom
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
3/4 tsp. salt
2 medium pears
1/2 cup honey
1/3 cup canola oil
1 cup almond milk
1 Tbs. raw apple cider vinegar
2 Tbs. ground flax seed
6 Tbs. hot water
1 1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup hazelnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
  • Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Line a muffin tin with papers.
  • In a small dish, whisk together the hot water and flax seed. Set aside to form a thick slurry.
  • In a liquid measuring cup, combine the almond milk and vinegar. Set aside.
  • In a large bowl, combine the oat bran, flour, baking soda, baking powder, spices, and salt. Mix well and set aside.
  • Grate the pears using the large holes of a box grater. Don’t include the core and seeds.
  • In the liquid measuring cup with milk, add the honey, oil, vanilla, pears, half of the hazelnuts, and flax mixture. Stir thoroughly.
  • Pour the liquids into the dry mixture and stir until just combined.
  • Fill the muffin cups almost to the top with batter and then sprinkle the remaining hazelnuts on the top. Put the muffins in the oven immediately and decrease the heat to 375 degrees F. Bake until the tops are golden brown, for 20-25 minutes.
 
There are many reoccuring themes in my thoughts and for my own purposes, I’m starting to link them together. Here are a couple more past experiences on connections and listening