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Learning How To Make | Pancakes

cause some things just take practice…

I love pancakes.  Rarely go bought breakfast without them.  Easy enough to do at home, right?  Yeah, not for me.

It’s not like I haven’t tried.  I tried a lot when I was a kid.  Mine were always dahhhk, yet half done and gummy.  Never, ever great.

Well, not unless you count the time I was on ThatSystem and hated all of the food except the pancakes.  I would make a bunch and freeze them for the week.  I used to love popping them into the toaster and pretending they were the Eggos that mom refused to buy.  So, yeah, the ThatSystem pancakes were my only success.

You’d think that since I love them and can’t make them that I would live at some pancake emporium getting my cut+soak* on.  Apparently, no.  I can see an A-frame off in the distance with its 24 hour sign ablaze.  It’s like literally blocks away and I’ve been there once.  Late night post-karaoke fest with former co-workers.  Yeah, once.

The dawning of pumpkin season has done something to me.  I need to get in there and get to making or burning or overcooking or under-cooking.  I need to get my pancake on.  Buttermilk Pancakes!  Pumpkin Pancakes!!!  Heaven on a plate with butter and syrup.

Spatula and a Cast Iron Pan.

I didn’t realize until I decided to climb this pancake mountain that I didn’t own a spatula.  Even though, most of my cooking is done with a wooden spoon or chopsticks, I’m surprised I hadn’t even thought about it.

On the way from the farmers’ market last Sunday, I stopped into the Home Gadgets Galore.  After staring at the spatulas and reading all the packaging, um, I actually asked if I could use silicone on a cast iron pan.  I really didn’t know.  Getting a stainless steel spatula seemed so old school and not in a cool retro-trad kinda way.

I don’t even know why I asked, I really should have known better or googled from home.  The guy gave me the answer I needed, but he didn’t seem that sure.  The only other decision to make was color.  Yes, color.  Black handle  or silver and black.  Silver, for a dollar more, Alex.

To Mix or Not to Mix

I’d been thinking for a few days about how I was going to approach the actual making of the pancakes, from scratch or just add whatever.  Usually, I’m a from scratch-er, but even the idea of pancakes has been an automatic fail for years.  This time, I wanted to start out with lowest possibility for human error.

Next stop, Trader Joe’s.  Even though both the Buttermilk and Pumpkin mixes were both giving me the eye, I just went simple and picked up the buttermilk.  I really want to make the pumpkin from scratch and with puree.

And the last time I bought syrup, I think I was doing the master cleanse.  {♥: Seriously, so LA.}  I’m glad I was at TJ instead of a regular store.  The thought of staring at brand after brand and reading high fructose corn stuff instead of syrup on the labels of those well-known names would have sent me into a fit.  I just picked up some 100% pure Canadian goodness and kept it moving.

So. Well…. I did it!

I made pancakes!  Pancakes, worthy of being eaten.  Up top, that’s batch number 2.

I think one of the things I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older is patience.  Patience and a love of and respect for process.  I’m paying attention to how the pan reacts to heat and adjusting for that.  I’m learning not to rush things.  Learning how to just watch and wait.  Then, act.

I had a “duh” moment, too.  I was looking at the butter on the sides of the pan get darker as the center looked bare.  Instead of putting another pat in the pan, I used a paper towel to quickly move some of that liquid gold around the surface.  Everything was right as rain.  Didn’t need to add anymore butter to the pan.  Um, duh.

I think I’m ready to take this on from scratch.  I need a bit of real buttermilk kick that I didn’t get from the mix.  And, no offense, Canada, but Vermont might be in my syrup near future.

I’m kinda excited that another thing that I was afraid of and frustrated by is no longer daunting.  Perfect, nah.  Just need to keep at it.

Nikki♥

*You do have a pancake eating prep, right? I can’t eat them if I don’t follow the proper steps.  Each cake in the stack gets a bit of butter.  Then, I get my grid on.  Only after all the cuts are made can I pour on syrup.  Simple plain maple syrup.

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HFTM | Pershing SQ – Too Much?

just a few things that made it home from the market…

I was super organized this morning.  I had my list full of things crossed off before I stepped one foot out of the door.  I did forget one thing, though.

I was about to head off to the farmers’ market when I noticed that I was feeling a bit warm.  I was feeling a bit moist, too.  Then it hit me.  I missed a step between  “it rubs the lotion on its skin” and “brusha, brusha, brusha.” Thankfully, the realization wasn’t accompanied by that all too natural scent, eau d’humanity.

Why am I telling the world that I forgot my anti-perspirant this morning?  Because it cut down on my mosey.  I couldn’t take in what every stand had on offer.  I, even, had on the pretty dress and was carrying the market basket.*

I knew I wouldn’t want to venture back out into the heat if I went back to the office to freshen up after a not so quick** trip to Fright Aid.  So, on a sunny LA afternoon, I put the Tom’s in the bottom of the basket, held my head high and arms tight, and I quickly hit Pershing SQ.

From the looks of things, too quick.  Really, there was only one guy I missed.  But, his spot was packed with people and I was not in the mood for any discenting opinions.

So, I got what I got and I’m sitting here, eating those strawberries, wondering if I’ll have enough left to make Bryant’s Strawberry Hot Pepper Jam.

Nikki♥

*Yes, I take the market basket to work.  It’s the only way the tomatoes survive the commute.

**Standing in that line that didn’t seem long, yet took forever, I really wanted to twist the cap and put Tom to work.  Alas, I just kept sweating.

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HFTM | Hollywood – Late, Again

just a few things that made it home from the market…

I think I’ve figured out why I beat myself up for not getting up early on a SUNDAY.

I was in Whole Food on Friday night. {♥: Stay Strong}  Um, in WeHo pet-sitting for friends, I decided to pop in to Whole Foods to pick up a few things for dinner.  {♥: Whew, that sounds better.}

It was weird, before I started to regularly shop at my local farmers’ markets, WF was fruit&veggie mecca.  Price be damned.  Everything so beautifully, artfully, colorfully arranged.  Um, ‘kay.  Whatevs.

Seriously, I walked in and started looking around the produce section like I was lost.  I had no urge to  splurge on any pretty perishables.  No one was offering me samples of just-picked fruit.  No one smiling as I milled about ready to offer answers before I could ask a question.  No bountiful baskets of bundled herbs with hand printed signs offering up a can’t miss deal.  No antsy kids counting down until closing time.  Eh, it just wasn’t the same.

I did pick up a few mushrooms and a garlic bulb.  And, my, did I stare at those rad golden beets, but I couldn’t put my head around buying anything I couldn’t wait two days to get at the market.  Oh, and my friend, PG, had picked tomatoes from the garden for me.  Score!

So, one would think after that epiphany, I would get up early, right?  Or wait, listen to this.  I didn’t get to do Pershing last Wednesday because it was like cold and rainy.   So, with very little fresh and green or orange or red or yellow in the house, I still got there at the end again.

It did just occur to me that I’ve been sick the last couple of days.  Maybe… Nah.  Sunday is just not my get up and go day.

Maybe next week.

Nikki♥

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In Pursuit Of | A Good Beef Patty

i’m done with my quest… for now

Honestly, truly and deeply done.  Unhappily done.  For real, for real.  For now.

I’ve had this beef patty pang that I haven’t quite been able to satisfy for ages.  Really, since moving here.  It’s been in the back of my mind.  Calling me upon occasion.  Begging me to get my Island on.

You know when you’re so used to being able to get something that it doesn’t cross your mind that you can’t or have to, like, look?  Yeah.  Beef Patties.  Growing up in DC and living in New York , I could get them at pretty much any corner store.  Sitting there drying out under that heat bulb, all normal, like withering hot dogs rotating on greasy convenience store roller grills.  Well, that’s not normal here.  At least not in my Korean/Latino/Multi-Culti neighborhood.

I tried to make them last year.  Really.  I wanted a beef patty and I wasn’t ready for my big LA adventure.  How’d they turn out?  Um, that was the first in the growing list of “Les Petites Catastrophes.”  I thought since I’ve been in need of a particular brand of curry powder and hot sauce from the Caribbean that I would combine pursuits and explore more of LA.

It seems this endeavor has only been a kinda successful.  Blue Mountain Curry Powder! Matouk’s! Yes and Yessss.  Beef Patty goodness? OH.NO.

Ma PC – Pale pastry aka phyllo.   Filling color off.   Flavor so not right, but on its way.  Texture off, more sloppy-joe like than patty filling.  A lot of work something for that is really a pocket full of spicy meat.
Jamaican Grocery/Restaurant – Pastry looked good, but was a little sweet. {♥:Um, no.}  Filling texture was alright.  Color, I guess, okay.  Taste, nope.  Veg patty. {♥:Why?} It was like greens in wheat bread.  Beef only, pls.  Thx.
Jamaican Restaurant #2 – Just no.  I think I’ve forgotten everything about it on purpose.  Pastry was fine, filling not.
Frozen from African/Asian/Caribbean Grocery – Brand I know from NYC.  Filling spilled out looking like newborn poo.  For REAL.  Beef patty filling shouldn’t look runny babypoo brown.  It just shouldn’t.  I was actually excited that the store carried a brand that I could put a taste to the name.  For the not so low price of 8 dollars, I got 3 frozen beef patties and a broken heart.

Honestly, I think I want a generic beef patty, all yellow flaky pastry and annatto stained super spiced beef filling.  No one’s special homemade gourmet patty made by the cook in the back of the kitchen from someone’s grandmother’s recipe is cutting it with me.  I want what I want.  With some ginger beer or Ting.

I going to try to make it once more before I give up, before I leave all my beef patty wants and dreams to a trip to Jamaica or DC or NYC or Toronto.   Or anywhere else where there is a large population of West Indians demanding the ultimate in average, ordinary snack food.

Nikki♥

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TCJ | Hello, October!

it’s all about the capsicum, baby…

Umm, why is my skin tingling?  I only took pictures and it still feels like there’s some heat still in the air.

I think I might be putting up some peppers, whole peppers.  Now, where are those plastic gloves?

Nikki♥

Kaela’s October TCJ Post…

Tigress’ Can Jam…

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HFTM | Pershing SQ – You Made Me Love You

just a few things that made it home from the market…


This week in “Yay!” is brought to you by the color Yellow and Lunch Hour Chinese Takeout {♥:No Judgement}…

Zucchini and I didn’t “meet cute” when I was a kid.  We were re-introduced this week by way of Kung Pao w/random veggies that the guy behind the counter couldn’t completely separate out.  I’m philosophically opposed to throwing away vegetables, even ones I don’t like.  {♥: Huh? Tell me lies… tell me sweet little…}  Okay.  I thought about it.  I started putting the chunks of zucchini aside and then tasted one.  It was love at first crunch.

We hooked up at Pershing the next day.  If everything goes according to fantasy, I  think it’ll be a late Summer ’11 wedding.  Or, maybe we’ll just elope and I’ll post the pictures.

Nikki♥

*

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In Bed With | Vefa’s Kitchen

i read cookbooks in bed.  don’t you?

I’ve only made the tzatziki because, well, I’m a bit slow.

I’m in love with Vefa’s Kitchen.

I first saw the book last year on Anthropologie’s site.  I dig their curated collection of style, cooking, travel and garden books.  I tend to have two windows open.  One for Anthro and one for the library.  I need to see, feel, hold and read a book before I buy it these days.  At the time,  LAPL wasn’t down with Vefa, yet.  I tried to peruse the pages at a brick and mortar bookstore.  Hello, Sealed Packaging.

It wasn’t until months later, when I started putting the publisher, Phaidon, in the library’s catalog search engine, did I realize they had finally purchased a copy of  the blue and white beauty.  Yes, it was the jacket design that first caught my eye.

I’ve been thinking about Greece a lot in the last couple of years.  I think it may have started when I finally saw Luc Besson’s Big Blue. Then every time you turn around I was watching a movie set on the ancient isles.  That’s when the fantasy starts.  It’s the month long vacation in my head.  A Greek Isle.  A white house.  That water.  Ahhhh.

Greek cooking wasn’t something I really thought about beyond a bit of baklava or the occasional gyro. (♥:Did you just say that out loud?) Sorry.  I’ve yet to eat Greek here in LA.  Even the Greek restaurants in NYC didn’t hold much allure.  More because my friend, whose mom is Greek Cypriot, put the Umm, No stamp on almost all of them.  It’s like me saying there really isn’t much good soul food in the five boroughs.

So, imagine my surprise when I open this BIG book.  Not only is the love automatic, but there is a familiarity, as well.  The book is full of beautifully simple photographs, each of the islands gets there own bit of history and a culinary merit badge.  There are so many things that are similar to food I grew up eating, so it’s actually easy to incorporate into my every day.  More importantly, I’m all excited to try everything.  (♥: Octopus?) Okay, I’m not trying everything.  But, I am fascinated by all 704 pages.  Marking recipes with all of the blue dotted ribbon glued into the spine and bits of scrap paper.

So, what have I made?  Well, it’s more like what do I want to make.  I’ve only gotten around to making tzatziki, but the “I Wanna” list is long.  There’s even a bit about about preserving.

I need to get a new fresh Vefa’s Kitchen of my own.  I can only renew the library book so many times.  Seriously, I think this is the fourth or fifth time I’ve carted the BIG book home from my local.

This time, though, I just may get another recipe or two made.  There’s phyllo in the freezer and I just brought home some salt cod.  NICE!

Nikki♥

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HFTM | Pershing SQ {Beautiful & Bruised}

they made it home from the market…

When I’m choosing what to bring home from the farmers’ market, I feel like I’m looking for something completely different than when I’m at conventional grocery stores and Whole Foods.

Perfection has a different set of criteria.  Those peaches, the ones above, would be sitting and left to rot.  Because they would have been next to ones that were less visually flawed or they wouldn’t have been on display at all.

But, my word, you should have smelled them.  I couldn’t take it all in.  I couldn’t breathe deeply enough.  They may have been visibly bruised, but beyond the skin there was just a gentle nudge to the otherwise firm flesh.  And, oh, were they sweet.

It’s only been a year since I’ve been going regularly to a few of my local farmers’ markets.  It’s been this amazing experience learning to use my other senses in picking produce.  I, now, know why it’s still hit or miss at conventional stores, cause pretty is only part of the story.

Nikki♥

*Oh, the tomatoes?  Those poor things are a casualty of my tote every week.  The busted ones end up in a pot of something moments after the last snap.  It’s like they make the sacrifice so their friends can rest another day.