I am a ‘path of least resistance’ parent, no more so than when I’m trying to get my son out of the door to nursery in the morning.
Is he raging at the prospect of brushing his teeth? I’ll let him skip a day. Does he want to wear wildly weather-inappropriate clothing? I’ve wrestled him into the pram in a t-shirt in winter before and sheepishly handed his coat over at nursery, rather than face a battle at the door. On the worst days, I’ve used every trick in the book to get us out – bribes (snacks), distractions (my phone) and sheer brute force.
The feeling when I’ve dropped him on those tricky mornings is a weird mixture of relief, joy at the prospect of a hot coffee in silence, and a familiar, gnawing knot of guilt in my stomach. However much I try to stick to my own self-imposed parenting rules (I will brush his teeth successfully every morning, I will not give him raisins on the way to nursery, I will never resort to screens, I will keep my cool, etc), I crumble at the first sign of a tantrum.
The same thing often happens at dinner. Come 6 p.m. on a Tuesday, I’m that mug fishing a tiny scrap of herb from whatever I’ve cooked because I know he’ll reject anything green. Or I’m giving up entirely and giving him a bowl of cornflakes. A side serving of guilt, it seems, is part of the deal for working parents
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But then Sunday rolls around. I get up early and make a massive tray of pancakes. I go to the trouble of whisking the egg whites to make them really light and fluffy. I add cinnamon because cinnamon is like catnip to my toddler. If he wakes up while they’re still cooking, he’ll demand a pancake straight from the pan, blowing on it to cool it down.
My husband makes us coffee, and the three of us sit down to eat our pancakes, and my son does something funny and the guilt dissipates. Sunday stretches out ahead of us, a day of windy park trips and maybe a pub lunch. For now – at least until Monday morning or until the pancakes are finished – the guilt can be parked.
Fluffy cinnamon pancakes
Makes around 16 pancakes
3 large eggs
140ml milk
1 heaped tsp baking powder
90g plain flour
25g wholemeal flour
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla extract
Butter, to fry
Separate the eggs. Whisk the yolks, flours, baking powder, cinnamon, milk and vanilla essence with an electric whisk until smooth.
Whisk the egg whites with a pinch of salt until they’re glossy and stiff peaks form.
Gently fold the egg whites into the flour and milk mix.
Heat ½ tsp butter with a splash of neutral oil in a large, non-stick frying pan over a medium heat, brushing with a pastry brush so it covers the surface. Add tablespoons of the batter – in a 24cm pan you should fit around 3-4 round blobs.
Cook for 2 minutes or until bubbles form on top of the pancakes. Flip then cook for a further minute, until golden brown.
Keep warm on a parchment-lined baking tray in a low oven while you cook the remaining batter. If we have any leftover I also freeze or stash in the fridge to feed my son throughout the week – you can heat them back up by briefly popping in the toaster.
Topping ideas
Salted honey butter
Whip 3 tbsp soft salted butter with 1 tbsp honey until light and fluffy. Add extra flaky seas salt on top, if you like.
Chia cherry jam
Add a cup of frozen cherries to a pan with 1 tbsp chia seeds, 1 tbsp maple syrup and 1 tbsp water. Simmer for 10-15 minutes, until jam-like in consistency.
Brown butter pears
Peel four pears and cut each into six slices, removing the core. Heat 25g butter in a pan with 1 tbsp caster sugar and ½ tsp cinnamon. Add the pears and cook, turning regularly, over a medium heat for around 15 minutes, until deeply caramelised.
Common pancake pitfalls, and how to avoid them
The recipe
For the typical crepe-style pancake, Delia’s recipe won’t let you down. I first started making this as a dessert while cooking solo for 12 guests on a ski season, and found I could make them all in advance and keep the pancakes stacked between pieces of baking parchment then wrapped in foil, ready to be reheated in the oven.
The fat
I like to use a mixture of butter (for flavour) with a splash of neutral oil to stop the butter burning. Don’t use too much or your pancakes will go greasy – I use a silicone pastry brush to help it coat the pan.
The heat
For American-style pancakes, keep the heat medium to allow even cooking – you don’t need a screaming hot pan. For crepes, you’ll need a bit more heat, but be mindful that the pan will heat up as you go so turn down to medium when the butter starts to spit.