Panakes

Ryan’s sister has been staying with us for a little over a week and finally found a place of her own. Conveniently, it’s an apartment in the building right next door. She just moved out on Saturday, and on Sunday, we had her and her room mate over for home made ricotta and blueberry pancakes brunch!

We missed her so much, we were trying to lure her back with food. Really, Ryan knows that unless other people are there I am just to going to sit on my arse and waste my life away playing Geared. Seriously. I am addicted. And we were out of cereal. It was either make delicious pancakes… or DIE. Anyway, I digress.

I usually make all right pancakes. Sometimes, I change it up a bit depending on the mixture and consistency. I guess in my mind, I haven’t found the holy grail of recipes… until now. I used my old pancake recipe, and added half a pint of ricotta into the mix. I also substituted a cup of milk for heavy cream (I doubled the recipe for 4 people). These changes made the pancake a bit heartier, fluffier and softer, and better… overall. Duh, right? Of course the pancake would be better with heavy cream. Well, I didn’t realize that it would do wonders for the texture, as well. The texture was perfect! It was better than the original. I was a little surprised how much these additions improved the over all consistency.

Although you can’t really see it in that half eaten top picture (I was too busy cooking them up and watching 30 rock season 1 to take any pictures until the end), these suckers ended up being monstrous. I put around half a cup into the pan, and it looked like the right size, and then it GREW… TO MONSTROUS PROPORTIONS. I mean, if I kept them on the pan, they might have grown to epic heights and ate US. It’s a wild world out there… pancake vs. man. This time, we won. Not without battle scars, though. Mmm full. Anyway, they might revolt, so you need to limit their size and powers. I think a good size is a quarter of a cup of batter per pancake. Then, just plop the blueberries right on top by the fistful. Then I cooked each side until browned, buttered it, and kept it warm in the oven until we ate.

Finally, Tracy, Ryan’s sister, was amused that I pureed some strawberries and whipped some heavy cream. C’mon now, we need fixin’s. Or maybe she was laughing at my betty home-maker cowboy apron?