Pancake

At one time, my fondness for crêpes almost led me to open a crêperie. Friends prevailed and I opened a restaurant instead, but crêpes are still one of my favorite desserts—especially made with buckwheat flour. The batter is best made a day in advance.

The batter is made in two stages. First a sponge is made (a mixture of milk, flour, egg yolks, and sugar that starts the yeast going and develops extra flavor) and then more milk and flour are added after the first rise.

Cuitlacoche is a fungus that makes corn kernels swell to ten times their normal size, turning them an inky black color. Its smoky-sweet flavor is a cross between corn and mushroom. I grew up eating cuitlacoche stuffed in a quesadilla or in a squash blossom. It’s a delicious, earthy addition to everything from quesadillas to empanadas. If you can’t find canned cuitlacoche in your local Latin market, substitute sautéed wild mushrooms for an equally delicious result.

These are simpler than traditional scallion pancakes, which are made from a breadlike dough, and they taste more like scallions, because the “liquid” is scallion puree. The flavor is great, the preparation time is cut to about twenty minutes, and the texture is that of a vegetable fritter.

This Thick Beet Pancake cooked slowly on both sides until the beet sugars caramelize, sports a crunchy, sweet crust that, I swear, is reminiscent of crème brûlée. It must be cooked in a nonstick skillet, preferably a twelve-inch one (if you have only a ten-inch skillet, use only one and a half pounds of beets and the same quantity of the other ingredients), over moderate heat: too-high heat and too-quick cooking will burn the sugary exterior of the pancake while leaving the inside raw. Remember that beets bleed, so it is wise to peel them over the sink and wash the grater or food processor as soon as you’re done with it.

We love to laze about in our pj's over a big breakfast, but we love it even more if our jeans still zip when we get dressed. That's why we're wild about these yummy yet healthy cakes, created by SELF contributing experts stephanie Clarke, R.D., and Willow Jarosh, R.D. These beauts pack whole grains for energy, plus fruit for extra tang. Pass the maple syrup! —Lindsey Palmer

If you’re going to the trouble of making dosa—all the soaking, pureeing, and overnight resting—it’s sensible to make the amount called for in the preceding recipe (plus it’s not like 4 cups of rice and 1 cup of dal cost much more than half those amounts). But it’s unlikely you’ll have the griddle stamina or appetite to make it through all that batter. Hence, uttapam—a fancy version of dosa. These are perfect for lunch—I usually fry a couple and eat them with whatever leftovers there are from the dosa meal the night before. And although it might be untraditional, I season them with a pinch of chaat masala (page 594), but feel free to omit it if it doesn’t appeal or you don’t have it on hand. If you’re using a pancake griddle, you should be able to cook two uttapam at a time; or you could have two nonstick griddles going at the same time.

Thin and crisp, the distinctively large and cylindrical dosa are the famous crispbreads of southern India. Made from a base of ground lentils and rice, they’re delicious and, paired with a simple raita or chutney, the basis of a meal for many people. I ate dosa with amazement throughout India, but I learned how to make them here, with help from Monica Bhide and Suvir Saran, both friends who have written wonderful books about Indian cooking. Note that the difficult part of the dosa-making process—soaking and pureeing—can easily be bypassed if you have an industrial milling machine that can pulverize the lentils and rice into flour straightaway. And a couple of companies do just that, adding salt and fenugreek for flavor, add baking soda to give them a little puff, and sell the resulting mix throughout India and in the States. This mix makes dosa a convenience food you can fry up at the drop of a hat. I think it’s still worthwhile to give this recipe a try, but if the soaking and pureeing are going to keep you from trying dosa, by all means use the mix. Soak the lentil and rice flour in water as directed on the back of the package, and when the batter’s ready, start with step 4. (You can use the mix for the uttapam on the next page as well.)

Between the omelet and the pancake lies the crêpe, an almost pastalike thin wrapper usually served as a snack or dessert. (Not always, though; see Buckwheat Crêpes, page 86.) They are universal but most closely associated with France and are sometimes made with chestnut flour (which, if you can find it, is a nice change). Fill them with cooked berries or other fruit, with fresh ricotta mixed with a little sugar, with chocolate sauce, or with anything else you like—ice cream, whipped cream, and so on. There was a time when you needed a special crêpe pan—one reserved strictly for this purpose—but a six- or eight-inch nonstick skillet is the perfect vessel.

Where to put a recipe like this? The Swedes eat these pancakes as dessert, but my guess is that 90 percent of Americans who make them will consume them before noon, as breakfast or a brunch dish. Though I’m in that 90 percent, these are undeniably sweet enough for postmeal status. There is a special pan for these, with small depressions, so you can make your pancakes the appropriate size. But using a tablespoon works almost as well. Serve them with confectioners’ sugar, applesauce, lingonberry preserves or any other jam, ice cream, sour cream, yogurt, or whipped cream. Or try an assortment.

Everyone knows about sweet crêpes (page 645), but visitors to France quickly become addicted to these—the classic snack food of Brittany—especially the ham-and-cheese variation. Traditionally, the batter sits for an hour before starting to cook. As long as you plan ahead a bit, that shouldn’t be a problem. But in a pinch you can skip the resting period—it doesn’t make too much difference—and overall these are easy to make and great as savory starters or a light lunch or supper.

Another good pancake starter or side dish. At their best hot, but still good warm. You can use frozen spinach for this if that’s all you have.

Okonomiyaki, a savory pancake, is a Japanese bar snack, something that you eat (or make) while you’re drinking. There are restaurants in Japan that make nothing but okonomiyaki, where you sit at a bar or table with a griddle set into it and pick what you want in your “pancake.” Everything is fair game, from sliced roasted pork to enoki mushrooms—even to the loose bits of fried batter that are a by-product of tempura called tenkasu. This batter, which includes shredded cabbage, is made in the style linked with Osaka; in Hiroshima, the other part of Japan where the pancake is popular, they add soba noodles to the batter. Obviously it’s a very flexible recipe. Here I use bean sprouts and peas, but vary it as you like. For example, omit the sprouts and peas and use 1/2 cup sliced squid and 1/2 cup asparagus tips; in the summer, substitute 1 cup fresh corn kernels scraped off the cob. You might look for Japanese Kewpie brand mayonnaise to finish the okonomiyaki; the container makes it easy to do the very 1980s squeeze bottle garnish of mayo and okonomiyaki sauce (which is like ketchup and also comes in a squeeze bottle, available at Japanese markets) that is part of the dish’s charm. Personally, what I like is the eerie way the bonito shimmy when they’re scattered across the pancake.

In Korea, this popular starter and snack is served at home, in restaurants, and on street corners. (It’s also one of the most popular dishes in Korean restaurants in the States.) At its most basic, it’s a large egg batter scallion pancake, but other vegetables, meat, and seafood are often added to make it a fancier and more substantial dish. Glutinous rice flour creates a wonderfully chewy texture, but if you can’t find it, all-purpose flour is perfectly fine. Serve these immediately after making them.

This tough, chewy little pancake is a staple in China. Though the dough requires at least an hour of resting time, it’s easy to make. Cut it into small pieces and serve as finger food for a crowd or into larger wedges and serve at the table, as part of a general Chinese feast. Lard is the traditional (and best) fat for cooking these; substitute oil if you prefer.

These pancakes are delicious with a dollop of sour cream.

These hoecakes have become a favorite with our guests. Use them to soak up that good pot liquor from turnip or collard greens. After the plate is completely sopped clean, save one to eat as a dessert along with maple syrup.

Crespelle (Italian for “crêpes”) are easy, delicious, and versatile. You can fill and bake them with almost any stuffing. Here’s a favorite of mine, crespelle filled with a creamy mushroom ragù, as they do it in Maremma. Many wonderful dishes can be made using crespelle in place of pasta. If you have all the ingredients for a filling for lasagna, for example, but do not want to make pasta, crêpes are ideal.

Every culture has its pancakes, and Istria has palacinke. Though they are no different from crespelle or crêpes, palacinke is the name I first learned for the delicious thin pancakes my mother would whip up for us for dinner. As a child, I loved them any way she served them, often with only a sprinkle of sugar or a bit of home-preserved fruits, like rose-hip jam, apricot marmalade, or prune butter. Sometimes palacinke were more elaborate: filled with ricotta and baked or layered like a cake with different fillings in between. But the most luxurious—and always our favorite—were palacinke spread with melted chocolate. That’s the version I share with you here, but I also encourage you to enjoy these homey treats any way you like. Today my mother still makes palacinke, but now it is her great-grandchildren who wait in line for the next one to come out of the pan so they can spread jam on top, roll them up, and devour them, still warm.

I believe I was about six years old when I fell in love for the first time. You see, Sundays are usually family days in Mexico, a day when brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and parents stroll around and go out to eat. My parents would often take us to restaurants that had tableside service (but they were not as fancy as you might think), and my sister Yael and I always ordered the crepas de cajeta. They were only good if they were cooked as a spectacle, because that was a big part of the deliciousness that would soon follow. We would stand way too close to the waiter and impatiently watch as the butter bubbled when it hit the pan. The cajeta was poured and a thick, gooey caramel sauce slowly melted into a silky sheet that would cover and warm the golden crepes that were folded into triangles. We begged for the spoon that inevitably had some cajeta left on it, and more often than not had fights over it. And then we would take a step back so we could watch the blue and orange flames as if they were the “poof” in a magic trick. Oh, the anticipation would make our mouths water, and although we stood still, I felt as though my heart was jumping up and down every time—I thought they were palpitations for the man who made those wonderful crepes! We would rush to our seats as he plated the crepes and would hold our forks ready to attack. Yael always asked for vanilla ice cream, and it is the ideal complement to the dessert, even though, in my opinion, they are perfect just the way they are. If you would like them with ice cream, they go very nicely with Requesón Cheese Ice Cream (page 185).

My Bayona staff served this dessert at the Taste of the NFL, a huge hunger-relief fund-raiser that we have participated in for over fifteen years. It takes place the night before the Super Bowl in the host city and is attended by more than 2,000 people, dining on food donated and prepared by chefs representing each NFL team. In seventeen years we have raised over $5 million for food banks and relief agencies all over the country. Now that’s a party with a purpose!

Buttery, golden crêpes, with just a sprinkle of sugar or a warm, luscious filling, are one of the simplest, most appealing, and most versatile of all desserts. They are easy to make ahead and freeze, and a snap to whip up at a moment’s notice—what’s not to love! In fact, my earliest cooking memory is making crêpes or “roll-up pancakes,” as we used to call them, for my little brother and me while watching Popeye cartoons early on Sunday mornings. My mom taught me how to do it so she could get a little extra sleep! We would roll them up with grape jelly on the inside and confectioners’ sugar (probably way too much) on the outside. Hmmm, wonder if our kids, Kelly and Evelyn, want to learn this recipe….