The Easiest Pancakes Ever

The 1930‘s was a tough time for just about everyone in the United States and in most of the industrialized world. It was the decade of the Great Depression. People had lost their savings and jobs, and many families literally did not know if they would have food for their next meal. My parents families both lived on small farms, so at least they had food if little else.

The 1930’s was a particularly difficult time for my mother. Her mother was diagnosed with tuberculosis and admitted to a sanitarium at Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin when Mom was a teenager. Her two older sisters were no longer at home, so she was promoted to chief cook and housekeeper for her father, two older brothers, a younger brother and little sister.

Up at dawn to make breakfast for Grandpa, who was the foreman of a CCC crew, and for the older boys who headed out to their jobs as soon as the farm chores were done. Then there was breakfast to cook for the two younger ones and a sandwich to make for Uncle Bill before he left on his walk to school.

It was during that time that Mom probably learned to make her pancakes. They are simple and filling, good solid American farm food, pancakes that flop on your plate with a satisfying slap, not the wimpy whisper of a light fluffy pancake like the ones I enjoy making and eating today.

But a funny thing happened a few weeks ago. I started thinking fondly about Mom’s pancakes. Then I wanted to eat a couple to test the memory. The problem was that I never got the recipe from Mom. Actually, I don’t think that she ever had written down a recipe. She just put herself on automatic in the morning, and the next thing you knew, pancakes were piling up on a plate.

I watched her many times. Here is what she did. After starting the bacon in the big cast iron frying pan, she would put about three cups of flour in a bowl, add some salt, baking powder and sugar, mix in milk until she had a medium thick batter, stir in two or three eggs and beat in some bacon grease. Then she would add more milk and keep stirring until she had a thin batter.

By this time the bacon would be close to done. When it was, she would drain the extra grease from the frying pan into the aluminum bacon grease can and start frying pancakes. Man-sized pancakes about nine or ten inches in diameter but only an eighth of an inch thick.

They cooked quickly and pretty soon there were a dozen hot pancakes ready for the table. We ate them with butter or oleo and Karo syrup, bacon and fried eggs.

Lacking Mom’s guidance, I simply trusted my memory and came up with a winner. The one major change I made is to use vegetable oil rather than bacon grease. If I get the batter a little too thin, I end up with pancakes that are sort of “poor man’s crèpes” which are not quite right but taste fine anyway.

If it takes you more than five minutes to stir up a batch of these pancakes, it’s because you can’t find the salt or baking powder or are obsessing too much about having level measures of any ingredient. This recipe makes six pancakes about eight inches in diameter.

INGREDIENTS:

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 T baking powder
1 T sugar
1 large egg
1 cup milk
1 T oil

PROCEDURE:

Sift or mix the dry ingredients together in a bowl. Stir in about three-fourths cup of milk, the egg and oil. Add more milk and stir well until you have a thin batter.

Pour or ladle about a third of a cup of batter onto a hot frying pan and spread it to an eight-inch circle. Cook until bubbles start forming in the center of the cake and the edges are dry. Turn and brown it briefly on the other side.

Serve these pancakes with bacon or sausage, butter and syrup.

NOTES: These pancakes are pretty good cold too. Butter them, spread on some jelly or jam and roll them up for a nice midmorning snack.

Jerri’s Turkey Tetrazzini

We always have roast turkey for our Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, and that means we always have leftover turkey. After the last guest is gone and the house is quiet, I cut the meat from the turkey carcass while Jerri packages it.

The bones and skin go into a Dutch oven where they will be simmered the next morning to make turkey broth while the packages of meat go into the freezer. Later those packages will end up furnishing the meat for a half dozen different recipes. Here is one that Jerri is proud to serve guests who enjoy it as much as we do.

INGREDIENTS:

1 lb. cooked turkey (2 or 3 cups shredded meat)
1/2 lb. spaghetti
3/4 lb. mushrooms
5 T butter, divided
2 T flour
2 cups chicken broth
3 T white wine (sauvignon blanc or chardonnay are good choices)
1 cup whipping cream
1/2 cup blanched, slivered almonds
Salt and pepper to taste
3 – 4 T Parmesan cheese

PROCEDURE:

First, clean, slice and cook the mushrooms. Melt two tablespoons of butter in a frying pan and sauté the mushrooms until they begin to turn golden brown. Leave them in the pan but remove them from the heat. If necessary, cut or shred the turkey into bite-sized pieces.

Preheat the oven to 375º and grease a glass baking dish. Cook the spaghetti al dente according to the instructions on the package.

While the pasta water is heating and the spaghetti is cooking, make the sauce. Melt three tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, add two tablespoons of flour and cook over medium heat for two or three minutes once the flour begins to bubble. Do not brown the flour. Add the chicken broth and wine, stirring constantly to make a smooth sauce, then stir in the whipping cream. Taste and adjust the seasoning.
Drain the spaghetti and put it into a large mixing bowl. Mix the sauce, meat, mushrooms and almonds with the spaghetti. Place the mixture in the baking dish and sprinkle grated parmesan cheese over the top.

Bake at 375º about twenty minutes until heated through and lightly browned.

NOTES: You can substitute chicken for turkey and canned mushrooms for fresh. Use eight ounces of canned mushrooms. Drain and add them to the spaghetti with the other ingredients.

Jerri prefers to use white meat for tetrazzini because she thinks it looks nicer, but I think that it is just as tasty with dark meat.