Arsip Tag: multigrain
I had a little crisis on Father’s Day, and unlike the week that proceeded it, it did not relate to a feverish toddler who landed himself in our bed (and proceeded to be well enough at 5 a.m. to stand up and announce the different parts of our face as he poked them “NO” “EYEAR” “AYE” “MOUF”), the gutting of our (single) bathroom so that plumbers could access a wayward pipe in the building or the thin film of dirt left on every surface of every room when they were done working. No, by Father’s Day, most of those things had thankfully righted themselves, leaving only crises of less grave proportions: the blueberry pancakes I’d always known and loved no longer worked for me.
I mean, they work, in terms of technically executing what they’re supposed to. They’re a bit runnier than I remembered, thus making it difficult to flip and bake them through cleanly, but they’re hardly worth complaining over, or so felt the Dad of Honor who found them–as he is contractually obligated to–delicious. We ate our pancakes, showered him with gifts and set off for the playground. But I couldn’t stop thinking about them; they didn’t sit right and I realized that it had less to do with the recipe and more to do with … me. I’ve changed.
Suddenly, using all white flour in a breakfast baked good felt a little funny. I’m not saying I’ve sworn it off — heavens, no! — but once you figure out ways to tuck more grains into baked goods without compromising their flavor, it’s hard not to do so regularly. And buttermilk, lordy, I love buttermilk. But I don’t always have it around and yet I always have yogurt around. And doesn’t yogurt somehow seem more fitting for breakfast? New decade, new pancake, I concluded. I would embrace change!
And so on Monday, long after the last blueberry pancake had been inhaled (I told you we liked them), I got back to work and these, these are my jam, um, I mean, the kind of blueberry pancakes I’m more enthusiastic about these days. Two grain flours a big helping of plain yogurt and absolutely no compromise on flavor, texture or deliciousness, especially when draped with maple syrup. Loads of it. What? I never said I ate pancakes like a grown-up, did I?
One year ago: Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, Improved and Zucchini and Ricotta Galette
Two years ago: Chocolate Yogurt Snack Cakes
Three years ago: Mediterranean Pepper Salad and Cherry Brown Butter Bars
Four years ago: Strawberry Chiffon Shortcake
Blueberry Yogurt Multigrain Pancakes
Makes 12 to 14 4-inch pancakes
2 large eggs
1 cup plain, full-fat yogurt
2 to 4 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons butter, plus extra for buttering skillet
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup (62 grams) whole wheat flour
1/2 cup (68 grams) all-purpose flour
1/4 cup (32 grams) barley or rye flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon table salt
1 cup blueberries, rinsed and dried
Melt half of butter. Remove from heat and stir in second tablespoon of butter until melted. This keeps your butter from being too hot when you next want to add it to the wet ingredients.
Whisk egg and yogurt together in the bottom of a medium/large bowl. If you’re using a thin yogurt, no need to add any milk. If you’re using regular yogurt, stir in 2 tablespoons milk. If you’re using a thick/strained or Greek-style yogurt, add 3 to 4 tablespoons milk. Whisk in melted butter, zest and vanilla extract. In a separate, small bowl, combine flours, sugar, baking powder and salt. Stir dry ingredients into wet only until dry ingredients are moistened. A few remaining lumps is fine.
Preheat your oven to 200°F and have a baking sheet ready (to keep pancakes warm). Heat your skillet or saute pan to medium. If you’ve got a cast-iron skillet, this is my favorite for pancakes. Melt a pat of butter in the bottom and ladle a scant 1/4 cup (about 3 tablespoons) batter at a time, leaving at space between each pancake. Press a few berries into the top of each pancake. The batter is on the thick side, so you will want to use your spoon or spatula to gently nudge it flat, or you may find that pressing down on the berries does enough to spread the batter. When the pancakes are dry around the edges and you can see bubbles forming on the top, about 3 to 4 minutes, flip them and cook for another 3 minutes, until golden underneath. (If you listen closely, after a minute you’ll hear you blueberries pop and sizzle deliciously against the pan.) If pancakes begin cooking too quickly, lower the heat. Transfer pancakes to warm oven as they are done cooking, where you can leave them there until you’re ready to serve them.
Serve in a big stack, with fixings of your choice. Do not anticipate leftovers.
I mentioned a couple weeks ago that we had plans to flee this so-called winter we’re having in New York and jet to a place where it’s always summer. It was dreadfully boring, by the way, all silky white sand that was cool under your bare feet, blazing aqua waters that you could walk a full city block into before you were in deeper than your waist and oh so quiet (rumor has it that they don’t even let these on the island!). Blissfully, there was nothing to do but read books, stare at the horizon and not think about life for a while. The most profound conversation we had in three days was whether a spot out on the water where the color slipped from a piercing aquamarine to a deeper cerulean to was due to a change of depth, or just the cast shadow of a cloud. The shadow of a cloud. Man, times were tough.
What I forgot to mention is that we weren’t bringing our son with us. Lest you think I’m immune to Mom Guilt — au contraire, it is the very pitch to which my life is auto-tuned, the backbone, nay, doctrine of my existence, governing all decisions from “Is that my son picking up a stray cheddar bunny from the seat of a random stroller and do I really have to stop him?” to whether or not I should admit that I was late to call yesterday because I was, in actuality, reading with my eyes shut for the 9th time that afternoon. Ahem, so, Mom Guilt in full swing, I decided to leave something special — petite apple crisps — in the fridge that he could have as a treat on the days I’d be away.
Alas, the longer I am a mom, the harder it is for me to not question everything. Why all that butter? I bet he’d like it just as much with a healthful oil! Why all that refined sugar and flour? I know it could be endlessly delicious without it. I haven’t yet reached the Hiding Spinach in the Brownies level of madness and with all due respect, I hope I never do as spinach and brownies are too wonderful apart to mash them into something greater than neither of their parts, and lie to a child at the same time, oh look at that, I’ve digressed again. So, yes, stopping short of what I call the spinach-in-the-brownies line in the (powdery Caribbean) sand, I made him some tiny multigrain apple crisps.
There’s brown sugar, and a little bit of butter. Cinnamon and a solid crumb-to-fruit (by solid, I mean “high”) ratio. But there are also oats a-plenty and oat flour, whole wheat flour and almond meal. And it’s good enough that we’ve already stolen
one two, I mean, made a second batch. You might want to make a habit out of them, too.
One year ago: Whole Wheat Goldfish Crackers and The Best Baked Spinach
Two years ago: Arroz Con Leche and Baked Rigatoni with Tiny Meatballs
Three years ago: Steak Sandwiches and Crispy Chewy Chocolate Chips Cookies
Four years ago: Big Crumb Coffee Cake, Alex’s Chicken and Mushroom Marsala and Almond Biscotti
Five years ago: Strawberry Rhubarb Pecan Loaf and Italian Bread
Multigrain Apple Crisps
As for the whole wheat flour, you could also use whole wheat pastry flour here or white whole wheat flour (as I did in one of my test rounds). You can also replace half the flour with the same amount of any pet flour you have. Yes, I said “pet” flour — I mean, whatever you’re currently obsessed with. I used 1/4 cup of barley flour in one batch, which is my current pet, as it’s silky and delightful in baked goods. I don’t think rye flour would be half-bad there either.
It’s not just the flour that you can fiddle with; coconut oil (also good for this toddler-bait) would be delicious in place of the olive oil; you could brown the butter when you melt it for extra flavor. Almonds could be replaced with any nut, etc. Have fun with it. Make it yours.
Makes 8 small crisps
4 large or 5 small-medium apples (about 2 pounds)
1 tablespoon cornstarch
3 tablespoons plus 1/4 cup raw or Turbinado (often sold as Sugar in the Raw) sugar
1/4 cup plus 3/4 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup sliced or slivered almonds
1/2 cup whole wheat flour (or a mix; see Note up top)
1/4 cup light or dark brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Two pinches sea salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup olive oil
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Arrange eight 6-ounce ramekins (these are my favorite) on a baking tray. Peel, halve and core apples, then chop them into a small (about 1/2-inch) dice. The smaller the pieces, the faster the crisps will bake and the less they’ll “deflate” as they cool. Toss apples with 1 tablespoon cornstarch and 3 tablespoons raw sugar until evenly coated, then divide apples between ramekins.
Grind 1/4 cup oats with almonds in a food processor until powdery. (If you have both almond meal and oat flour, you can replace this with 1/4 cup of each.) In a medium bowl, mix oat/almond mixture with remaining rolled oats, wheat flour, remaining 1/4 cup raw sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon, sea salt and baking powder. Melt butter in a small saucepan (or in microwave), then stir in olive oil. Pour mixture over dry ingredients and stir until crumbly. Divide crumbs over each dish of apples, packing them on with your palms if needed to get them all on (don’t worry, the apples will deflate a bit when they bake).
Bake apple crisps for about 30 to 40 minutes, or until you can see the juices from the apples bubbling around the crumbs. If tops brown too quickly, put a sheet of foil over the whole tray for remaining baking time. Let cool on rack and serve when lukewarm. Store remaining crisps in fridge. They are quite excellent with a dollop of plain yogurt.