Pancakes are happy food. Like weekend mornings in a sun-filled kitchen with family and fresh-squeezed orange juice. Sausage or bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove and the family dog sniffing around everyone’s feet to try and get a sliver of the scents in the air. That is what I think. In later years, it would be university cafeterias or pancake houses, but there is something uniquely memorable about family food. My parents would serve their pancakes up with dabs of butter between each layer and topped with warm Vermont maple syrup, usually from a stockpile given to us at Christmas by New Englander friends. I wish I could pull you all back in time for a moment to sit in the dining room for brunch. Sometimes there would even be bagels with cream cheese and lox or hash browns. Eggs were rarely the main event. Far too… to the point. Brunch is a meandering meal, not one that is efficient or to the point.
When I was about nine years old, I compiled all my favorite brunch recipes together into a book and stuck it to the kitchen cork board with a thumbtack as a not-so-subtle reminder to my parents what I wanted when the sun rose on Saturday morning. That book is long gone and I didn’t think to save the file so for this post I am linking someone else’s Dad’s Buttermilk Pancake recipe (thanks, L.V. Anderson). This photo may look familiar from my Shrove Tuesday post earlier this year.
Because I live in Ireland, I am going to now tell you where you can find a true American buttermilk pancake in the Republic. This is a partial list and one I will add to over time so if you know of a place I’ve overlooked or don’t know about, please add a comment.
Bewley’s on Grafton Street has pancakes on their menu
37 on Dawson St. does them, as do Herbstreet on Hanover Quay (thanks to @sherqui via Twitter)
Four Seasons in Ballsbridge (thanks to @chefwademurphy via Twitter)
Buttermilk Pancakes with Belgian chocolate or bacon & maple syrup at Woodstock in Phibsborough! (thanks to @WoodstockDub on Twitter)