German Pancakes

by Reuben Hicks

Ingredients:

• ½ cup of all-purpose flour
• ½ cup of whole wheat flour
• ½ teaspoon of cinnamon or nutmeg
• 1 cup of whole milk
• 6 eggs
• 1 teaspoon of vanilla
• ¼ pound butter

Toppings:

• 1 Lemon and ¼ cup powdered sugar
• ½ cup heavy whipping cream,
• 1 cup of strawberries (or other fruit), 1 teaspoon of vanilla, 2 tablespoons of maple syrup, with more for topping

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit
2. Put a medium-sized cast-iron in the oven to preheat too
3. Mix dry ingredients together
4. Mix the wet ingredients together (not butter)
5. Combine wet and dry ingredients
6. Take the pan out of the oven once it’s up to temp and put the butter in it
7. Once it is totally melted and evenly spread over pan, pour the batter in
8. Bake in the oven for 20 minutes
9. If it is puffed up and golden brown, it's ready. If not, cook for another 5 minutes and check again, extending baking time if needed
10. Cut into 8 wedges and serve immediately
11. Top with either whipped cream and strawberries or lemon and powdered sugar shaken through a strainer

Directions for toppings:

1. Slice strawberries into ¼ inch slices
2. Put half a cup of cream, vanilla, and maple syrup into a chilled metal bowl and whip the cream by hand or with electric beaters
3. Top pancake with strawberries first, then a dollop of cream, and a drizzle of maple syrup, and it's ready to serve!
4. Squeeze lemon and strain out seeds (or use a lemon squeezer)
5. Put powdered sugar in a bowl and scoop some in the strainer
6. Drizzle the pancake with lemon and dust with powdered sugar, and it's ready to serve!

German Pancakes: a creative prose piece

I wake up with golden rays from the sun shining in my face. Something about this day feels special. My siblings are already up, so I rush to pull on my favorite shirt and shorts, donning my hoodie that I can only be separated from in very hot weather, and walk bleary-eyed yet quickly to the kitchen. My mom is making German pancakes, which confirms my hunch about it being a special day. She only makes German pancakes a few times a year. “What’s the occasion?” I think. Then I see my dad sitting on the couch with my little sister on his lap, playing chess with my big brother, and my question is answered. He usually works Sunday mornings, making crepes for the coffee shop my parents run, and between managing the coffee shop and his construction business, he works at least 80 hours a week. I run to him, and he gives me a morning hug. Then I go to my mom and ask if I can help. She lets me crack the eggs (picking out all the shells I inevitably get into the batter) and lets me stir until my arms become too tired. We pour the batter into the pan and put it into the oven. She lets me whip the cream as she chops strawberries and slices a lemon. She gives me one of the beaters to lick, which is my favorite part after the whipping is finished. We join my dad and siblings on the couch, and I soak in the specialness of having time with both my parents at the same time. The oven timer goes off, and I go with my mom as she takes the German pancakes out of the oven. I love seeing how big it has puffed and expanded from the relatively small batter, and am sad when it slowly deflates. My melancholy doesn’t last long as we all sit at the table and my mom serves slices of the pancake to us. We top our slice with whipped cream and strawberries or lemon and powdered sugar. I chose lemon and powdered sugar for my first slice. I like the sourness of the lemon, the sweetness of the sugar, and the texture of the pancake. There is a simple beauty in it all, the togetherness of my whole family, the warm sun that illuminates our whole apartment, and the German Pancakes which brought us all together.

Many years pass, and the tradition of making German pancakes in our family fades. Maybe it’s because we moved states or got older and started eating breakfast on our own more. One Sunday, when the sun's rays are caught and held like translucent golden rods in some smoke that’s escaped from our wood stove, I remember that Sunday morning long ago and suddenly crave German Pancakes. I asked my mom for her German pancake recipe. She tells me the approximate measurements, and I decide to try to make it. We live in a different state in a new house in the middle of the woods. I now have another sister who’s about 3. She helps me mix the ingredients, getting flour all over the counter and some on the floor. I clean it up, remembering when I was in her position. She helps me whip the cream, and we each lick a beater after we’re finished. As I take it out of the oven, I look with satisfaction at the large bubbles that have formed, and when they slowly deflate, I am not sad because I know this is not the last time I’ll get to share this experience. As we all sit down at our new kitchen table with a new member of our family and I pass out slices of German pancake, a consciousness of the continuity and beauty of each day unfolds like the dandelions in the morning light.