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dragonlady7On September 11, 2002, Z's boss told everyone to come in 2 hours late. The previous year, from the parking lot of their headquarters near Hoboken, right on the Hudson, they had all stood together in horrified silence and watched the towers fall. That afternoon Z had to walk from Hoboken to Jersey City, since the Light Rail wasn't running; he'd walked beside the Hudson watching the smoke the whole way home.
Come in 2 hours late, she said. Sit at home with your family. Have a nice breakfast. Enjoy the fact that you're alive.
So we did. We made a sinfully high-calorie brunch, and toasted to being able to kill ourselves slowly, in honor of those who had been denied that opportunity.
Every year since then we've tried to do the same thing. Circumstances haven't cooperated. But we've tried.
So here's my recipe from this morning. It was a disaster, btw; I have one of those awesome cream chargers that you use a little nitrous thing to whip cream with, and it decided, this morning, to explode all over the kitchen. Then the pancakes refused to turn neatly, and I broke two. But it tasted awesome, and I made an enormous mess, and we had a lovely time.
So here's the recipe.
Rum-Soaked-Nectarine-Stuffed Pancakes With Cream, optimally Whipped
1) Slice two nectarines or peaches or whatevers into thinnish slices, then cut into chunks. Put into a bowl and over the top sprinkle 2-3 Tbsp granulated sugar, 1-2 Tbsp of rum (white or spiced), and 1-2 Tbsp of triple sec. Let macerate, stirring occasionally.
2) Whip some cream, if you can. Failing that, dump the contents of your exploded cream-whipper into a measuring cup and shove it into the freezer to minimize how much of it melts back into sweetened liquid cream.
3) Make pancakes. Your method may vary; I used the recipe my mom wrote down for me, from some unknown source. It's about 1 c. flour, 2 tsp baking powder, 2 Tbsp sugar, 1/2 c. milk, 1 Tbsp liquid fat (vegetable oil or bacon fat work best, melted butter or melted margarine also work, just don't have them so hot they cook the egg), 1 egg, then thin with milk to a somewhat pourable consistency (individual taste varies; taller pancakes = thicker batter, thinner crepe-like cakes = thinner). I used some of my exploded melted cream in place of some of the milk and most of the sugar, which made the cakes very buttery.
4) Fry the pancakes in butter. (I used salted butter. It was nice.) This batch made 5 pancakes; for the last 3, I pressed chunks of nectarines into the top of the batter just after I poured it onto the griddle. Meanwhile I kept the first two enormous pancakes hot in the toaster oven.
5) Take two pasta bowls. Dump a little melted cream and some of the liquid from the nectarines into the bowls. Put the first two, enormous pancakes into the bottom of the pasta bowl. Top with the rest of the nectarines and their liquid, and two big scoops of your now half-frozen whipped cream. (Whoops.) Plop the final two and a half (one broke anyway) pancakes atop this mixture. Scoop on a little more half-melted whipped cream. Serve promptly, with coffee with melted cream in it. (See a theme?)
Eat. Enjoy. Laugh. Spit in the eye of the colossal waste of lives, time, money, and hope that have been the ensuing eight years since that awful day. Dredge up some more hope to go on with. Maybe find some faith that some of this has at least taught us valuable lessons as a society. Whatever: enjoy your breakfast, and go out and do something good today. Define that however you see fit.
Come in 2 hours late, she said. Sit at home with your family. Have a nice breakfast. Enjoy the fact that you're alive.
So we did. We made a sinfully high-calorie brunch, and toasted to being able to kill ourselves slowly, in honor of those who had been denied that opportunity.
Every year since then we've tried to do the same thing. Circumstances haven't cooperated. But we've tried.
So here's my recipe from this morning. It was a disaster, btw; I have one of those awesome cream chargers that you use a little nitrous thing to whip cream with, and it decided, this morning, to explode all over the kitchen. Then the pancakes refused to turn neatly, and I broke two. But it tasted awesome, and I made an enormous mess, and we had a lovely time.
So here's the recipe.
Rum-Soaked-Nectarine-Stuffed Pancakes With Cream, optimally Whipped
1) Slice two nectarines or peaches or whatevers into thinnish slices, then cut into chunks. Put into a bowl and over the top sprinkle 2-3 Tbsp granulated sugar, 1-2 Tbsp of rum (white or spiced), and 1-2 Tbsp of triple sec. Let macerate, stirring occasionally.
2) Whip some cream, if you can. Failing that, dump the contents of your exploded cream-whipper into a measuring cup and shove it into the freezer to minimize how much of it melts back into sweetened liquid cream.
3) Make pancakes. Your method may vary; I used the recipe my mom wrote down for me, from some unknown source. It's about 1 c. flour, 2 tsp baking powder, 2 Tbsp sugar, 1/2 c. milk, 1 Tbsp liquid fat (vegetable oil or bacon fat work best, melted butter or melted margarine also work, just don't have them so hot they cook the egg), 1 egg, then thin with milk to a somewhat pourable consistency (individual taste varies; taller pancakes = thicker batter, thinner crepe-like cakes = thinner). I used some of my exploded melted cream in place of some of the milk and most of the sugar, which made the cakes very buttery.
4) Fry the pancakes in butter. (I used salted butter. It was nice.) This batch made 5 pancakes; for the last 3, I pressed chunks of nectarines into the top of the batter just after I poured it onto the griddle. Meanwhile I kept the first two enormous pancakes hot in the toaster oven.
5) Take two pasta bowls. Dump a little melted cream and some of the liquid from the nectarines into the bowls. Put the first two, enormous pancakes into the bottom of the pasta bowl. Top with the rest of the nectarines and their liquid, and two big scoops of your now half-frozen whipped cream. (Whoops.) Plop the final two and a half (one broke anyway) pancakes atop this mixture. Scoop on a little more half-melted whipped cream. Serve promptly, with coffee with melted cream in it. (See a theme?)
Eat. Enjoy. Laugh. Spit in the eye of the colossal waste of lives, time, money, and hope that have been the ensuing eight years since that awful day. Dredge up some more hope to go on with. Maybe find some faith that some of this has at least taught us valuable lessons as a society. Whatever: enjoy your breakfast, and go out and do something good today. Define that however you see fit.
