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.