Whole wheat buttermilk pancakes


Well, it has been nearly six years since I’ve put down any words or recipes here. It’s not because there haven’t been words or recipes, there have been a million of each at least, but time just whizzes by like a too small sign on the side of a busy highway and before you know it you’re past 40 and you’re a whole different person (more on that later).

The short story is, we’re still eating and making space for connection around the table. It’s not always supper these days (and not always at the table), but more often than not it’s breakfast where we all find ourselves in the same room, eating mostly the same thing, together. We added an island to our already small kitchen and it has become the Grand Central Station of our home where any one of us (friends included) can pull up a stool and stay awhile, especially during the morning hours when all we can manage is getting ourselves to the kitchen where the coffee sits. Our dining room table has taken on a different role most of time, housing a giant puzzle, a chess board and a bowl of wooden puzzle pieces no one can figure out how to solve. Clearing, setting and dining at the table is still a thing from time to time, but we have migrated to a more casual way of eating together and it suits us and the moment we’re in. Someone throws a record on while I cook and the boys, especially Jack, our 7 (almost 8) year old, will help with the prep, if there is any. Turns out, he’s a whiz with a chef’s knife. Historically I have enjoyed an empty kitchen where I can be in the zone and disappear into the work of cooking, but recently it has been fun to share that space with the kids when they feel like jumping in or hanging out. I’m still working on letting my spouse help (or hang out), but that’s probably a topic for another therapy session.

Let’s get to pancakes, shall we? I don’t know how many pancake recipes exist in the world, but this one is my all time favorite. Marion Cunningham, in her wonderful way, wrote a small book in the 80’s called The Breakfast Book. In it you will find all manner of breakfast wizardry, including these pancakes, but you will also be given some very good advice. Below is an excerpt of her rules for dining with “civility and deportment.” Make these wholesome, snappy pancakes some morning and try them on for size.

Breakfast Table Civility and Deportment by Marion Cunningham

1. Clean up before you come to the breakfast table: wash your face and comb your hair.

2. You don't have to get dressed.

3. Clean fingernails, please.

4. Reading the newspaper at the table is permissible, but a pleasant word or salutation must be spoken to all present.

5. Sit up straight and try to be cheerful.

6. Talk to one another politely; talk and listen in turn.

7. Because everyone is defenseless at breakfast, there should be no contentiousness or crossness.

8. Don't ever mention food dislikes or criticize the food.

9. Don't lick your fingers or stuff your mouth with food.

10. Don't play with your food.

11. Don't talk with your mouth full.

12. Butter your bread one part at a time; don't put your uneaten pieces back in the bread basket.

13. And don't answer questions in a saucy manner.

14. Remember, guests always receive the choicest portions.

Whole Wheat Buttermilk Pancakes

from Marion Cunningham’s The Breakfast Book

Ingredients:

  • 1 cup buttermilk, room temperature

  • 1 egg, room temperature

  • 3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly

  • 1/2 cup whole wheat flour

  • 1/4 cup all purpose flour

  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

  • 1 teaspoon baking soda

Preparation:

  1. Put the buttermilk, egg and melted butter in a mixing bowl. Whisk until the mixture is smooth and blended.

  2. Stir the flour, salt and baking soda together in a small bowl until blended. Stir into the buttermilk mixture and mix only until all of the flour is moistened. Keep the lumps as Marion instructed—she knows best!

  3. Heat a cast iron skillet or griddle to medium-low heat (this prevents the pancakes from burning before they can cook in the middle). Grease the pan with butter and add about a 1/4 to 1/3 cup of batter to the pan. I like to do one at a time in my 10” cast iron to make sure the shape is intact and the edges get nice and crispy. Although, this is a slow road to breakfast, so feel free to do as many at a time as you can manage, allowing at least a couple of inches between pancakes so you can flip ‘em when bubble start to form on the top. Cook for a few minutes more (Marion says briefly, which is about right) until golden and cooked through.

  4. Serve with a warm pat of butter (not the cold slab I have pictured above) and a generous pour of maple syrup and don’t forget—no saucy talk at the table.

If you’re interested, and I hope you will be, here’s the record we put on while we ate these pancakes and sipped our coffee: John Lee Hooker, Travelin’. It’s a great blues record; just the thing we needed to get the blood flowing while the pancakes worked their magic.

cherry, chocolate + almond scones

cherry, chocolate + almond scones

We are a bit spoiled living so close to San Francisco. We could eat every meal of every day at a new place and never reach the last restaurant. There are iconic steakhouses, out of this world oysters harvested right out of the bay and arguably the best bakeries in the state. The Mission, an uber hip neighborhood in the sunny part of the city, is home to a whole bunch of the best eateries in the city. Our church is located in the Mission which could be a coincidence, but it's entirely possible we chose the church we attend based on the quality and quantity of food options for after church brunching. Not really, it's an amazing community of the best people (but really though, the foooooood).

About a block from the front steps of our church is a little bakery called Tartine. It's a San Francisco staple. People line up 45 minutes before they even open the doors in hopes of getting a piping hot ham and cheese croissant and to snag a tiny table on which to enjoy said croissant with a cup of strong coffee. It's a small place but what they lack in space they make up in sugary carbs or flaky carbs with cheese or just straight carbs in the form of a loaf of bread that weighs more than a newborn human baby. The place is magical really. 

cherry, chocolate + almond scones

I try to hold myself back from going there every single Sunday. That takes a lot of self discipline, of which I am seriously deficient. The last time we went I had one of their buttermilk scones with currants. I already had eaten my ham and cheese croissant, but what could a little bit of scone hurt? Well, it was absolutely delicious, which caught me off guard because I was thinking I would just give it a taste, expecting just a normal, mostly boring scone. I mean, I'm comparing this to a ham and cheese croissant, a scone can't compare, right? Really wrong. The scone was awesome and we at the whole thing. AFTER we both ate a ham and cheese croissant. See why I can't go there every Sunday? 

cherry, chocolate + almond scones

If I thought that going to Tartine every Sunday was a bad idea, baking an entire batch of scones probably isn't the most brilliant idea either. Sure, I threw some whole wheat flour in there, but there's also butter and chocolate and they're drenched in a sugar and butter coating. Yep. Good thing my husband doesn't mind taking these types of things to work with him. 

I like this riff on Tartine's currant scones. The chocolate makes these a real treat and the tartness of the cherry balances things out. They aren't as airy as the original version on account of the whole wheat flour, but I like that they feel substantial. I cut these into wedges and after the fact, I really wished I had just cut them into squares or rectangles with a sharp knife. Feel free to do that if you'd like, I think it would be easier to get even sized scones. I'll do that next time. 


cherry, chocolate + almond scones

makes 12

adapted from Tartine

Ingredients: 

  • 2 cups whole wheat flour
  • 2 3/4 cups all purpose flour
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar (plus more for dusting)
  • 1 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1 cup plus 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, very cold and cut into 1/2" cubes
  • 1 1/2 cups buttermilk, cold
  • 1 teaspoon orange zest
  • 3/4 cup dried cherries
  • 3/4 cup dark chocolate pieces (or chips)
  • 3/4 cup sliced almonds
  • 2 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly

Preparation: 

  1. Pre-heat the oven to 400 degrees. Line a sheet pan with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper. 
  2. In the bowl of a stand mixer (or a large bowl if mixing by hand), sift both flours, baking powder, baking soda, sugar and salt. Attach the paddle to the mixer and spread the butter over the flour mixture. Turn the mixer onto low and break down the butter until it is the size of peas and the mixture looks more like wet sand. If you're mixing by hand, use a pastry blender or your fingers to break up the butter, working quickly to keep from heating the butter too much. 
  3. Add the orange zest, buttermilk, dried cherries, chocolate and almonds all at once. Mix until just combined. The mixture will be moist. 
  4. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and press into a rectangle that is 18" by 5" and about 1 1/2" thick. Cut into 12 triangles. Brush with melted butter and top with a generous amount of sugar. Bake until golden brown, about 25-30 minutes. Serve immediately.