The recipe: p183, "Pancakes"
Yes, just "Pancakes".
Here's the thing about randomness. It doesn't care whether you're in the mood for something exciting, something exotic, something Italian involving seafood that's still alive at the point of purchase. If the wheel of fortune wants to land on How To Boil An Egg, and if, within that, it chooses to avoid the old-fashioned but more involved propositions on the surrounding pages (case in point: the "Crunchy Cream Pie" involving Angel Delight and crushed digestive biscuits) in favour of "Pancakes"... well, then all I can do is endeavour to turn it into bloggable content. Somehow.
In defence of Ms. Arkless, I'm pretty sure I've referred to exactly this page when making pancakes in the past. Her book remains a useful starting point for the absolute kitchen novice, as it did when I first wrote about it, and it's hardly her fault if page 183 is lacking on the excitement front.
Besides, it could have been worse.
(Perhaps I was too quick to defend Ms. Arkless after all.)
Anyway, the pancake "recipe" mentions the obligatory lemon and sugar topping, but it also points us in the direction of the "Omelette and Pancake Fillings" section on pages 30-31.
This seems like a good opportunity to spice things up a little (not literally, of course; spices would be far too exotic for Jan) and select one savoury filling and one sweet filling at random.
Even here, the finger of fate lets us down: we could be enjoying asparagus, cheese, honey and walnut, bramble jelly (or, erm, "herbs" - thrilling), but instead we end up with "Tomato" from the left-hand page and "Fruit" from the right-hand page. Cheers, random.org.
Fine. Let's just get on with it, shall we?
The prep: Jan says we can use fresh fruit, but for that full 1986 effect, I'm using a tin of peaches that's been sat in the cupboard since the last no-deal Brexit supermarket stockpile (which reminds me, must get in the queue for a November delivery slot).
Eggs are in plentiful supply because I've been on a bit of a Swedish baking kick lately, while the tomatoes come from this week's veg box and are probably too good for this purpose - but hey, a bit of luxury never hurt anyone. (Gout sufferers may disagree.)
The making: Are you expecting me to actually tell you how to make pancake batter? It's flour, milk and an egg, you whisk it, it remains lump-free (ideally). Jan even spares us the pinch of salt you find in many other pancake recipes. Why go crazy?
Preparing the fillings at least requires a little more effort, but only a little. The tomatoes and peaches are sliced...
...and then I follow Jan's detailed instructions by frying the tomatoes "in a little oil or fat" and keeping them hot until required.
This being done, it's time to make some pancakes! Jan wants me to grease the pan with "oil or lard - not butter". You won't be surprised to learn that I go for the first option. (I did consider buying some lard for sheer old-school authenticity, but I would have had absolutely no use for it beyond this recipe and that seems a bit wasteful, so there we go. Isn't it a pleasing word to say out loud though? Lard. Larrrrrrrrrd.)
The frying and tossing process is complicated by an ancient IKEA fish slice losing its remaining structural integrity partway through...
...but we get there eventually, and Miniature Ainsley is delighted.
Fillings are added in turn and... nope, I just can't conjure up any more words to describe making pancakes and rolling them up with stuff inside them. Sorry.
The eating: This is what it comes down to, right? We all know how to make pancakes and slice up a few basic ingredients, but how do the minimalist (to the point of frugal) fillings suggested by How To Boil An Egg stack up in terms of actual enjoyment?
The fried tomato variant, while simple, is OK. It'd benefit from some cheese, of course (as most things would), but at no point does Jan suggest actually combining her suggested fillings, so plain tomato it is. And yeah. It's fine. Sam even goes so far as to venture that most glowing of praise, "it doesn't not work...?".
Miniature Ainsley can scarcely conceal his excitement |
The tinned peach variant, however, is a big ol' lumpy pile of "meh". In hindsight, following the tomato approach and heating the peach slices first to activate the sugars a bit might have been an idea (albeit an idea Jan failed to mention) - at room temperature inside a warm pancake, it's just a bit underwhelming and tasteless.
Which was to be expected, I suppose: there's no ambition here beyond "equip your home-leaver with the skills to make basic food without burning down the kitchen in their student halls", and in that respect at least, it's a case of "job done". From looking at Amazon, it seems like the updated edition of How To Be An Egg does aim a little higher in places - witness the mentions of such concepts as "hoisin" and "tabbouleh"! - but a search within the pages shows that the "Tomato" and "Fruit" fillings still use exactly the same wording as they did in 1986. I suppose it's reassuring that some things never change.
There's enough batter for two more pancakes. We do them with ham and cheese. They're much better.
Two-word verdict: Brutally rudimentary.
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