Pankey

When I worked at the Five Spot in Seattle, I prepped a lot of food. One of my tasks was making buttermilk pancake batter in big five gallon buckets for the next day’s brunch. As this was a restaurant kitchen, about half of my numerous coworkers were Latino, mostly Mexican. Their varying levels of English competency made for some amusing spellings of commonly used items; the one that always stuck with me was “pankey”, scrawled in black sharpie on the batter bucket. Now I always think of pancakes as pankey.

I made myself some pankey a couple of weeks ago, and holy Moses, were they ever good. “Melt-in-your-mouth” is a phrase that gets tossed around a lot, and is usually grounds for suspicion (it seems most frequently employed in reference to heavily processed, heavily marketed food). These, however, merited that designation, in the best way possible. I don’t remember exactly how I made them; I do know that they involved sour cream, heavy cream, whole-wheat pastry flour, flax seeds and wheat-germ as a nod to health, and were fried in a shitload of butter. I ate the whole batch and felt ill for the rest of the day, but it was worth it.

Yum.

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About ea

Reluctant technophile, immoderate lover of words, food, cogitation, the sensory world. We are not done evolving and there is no free will.
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2 Responses to Pankey

  1. Belinda says:

    I could taste the pankeys and smell them cooking on that beautiful skillet.

  2. Jill Henderson says:

    Glad to see you’er enjoying Aunt Kay’s cast-iron skillet. I love that skillet…it always made the best suthin’ cornbread!

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