Pancake day came and went and not a pancake was flipped in my home. So crazy has my week been that I ran out of milk on Monday and didn't even get to replace it before I went away on Thursday. And I've been so tired that even if I had done, summoning the power to whisk would have been unthinkable.
However, I did eat a pancake at the weekend, which reminded me just why they deserve their annual celebration. Wow they are good! Especially with lemon, sugar and vanilla ice cream. Even tastier after a juicy steak, hard earned after a day falling over on the slopes. My pudding also proved a welcome break from the gallons of ale demanded by the reason for the holiday - (an unconventional) stag weekend. But a top pud tip for you, try not to follow your dessert of dreams with absinthe. Just wrong.
It's now Monday. The sun is but a memory behind the mountain in my mind, and I'm home. Home with a kitchen, flour, eggs and finally some milk. After a day off work, what better way to spend my time than make up for missing one of my favourite days of the year than whip up a pancake or two?
I may have needed hard core training for Christmas, but when it comes to Shrove Tuesday I'm a pro. I've hosted several pancake parties, where guests compete for the best topping (the savoury ones always win) and until this year, Christmas morning was always ushered in with one of epic pancake efforts.
So my batter and beauties took me no time at all, convincing me that I really should get back into the habit of keeping batter in the fridge whether for blitzed raspberries or left over ratatouille.
But of course I had my eyes on the prize and forgot to take a photo at any point so you'll have to take my word for it! Instead, here's a picture from the ski lift on my first day. You can imagine that me and the pancake had a lot in common that day. Falling flat, flipped, battered...
Yours with sugar (and lemon) on
Tom
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