My odyssey of discovery started one week ago when I had a crazy hum for blueberry pancakes. There is something to the power of persuasion. I was seeing blueberries all over the grocery stores. 2 for $5 here, 2 for $4 there. Now I have always enjoyed blueberries, but in a more traditional sense. I just eat them right out of the container. In a fruit salad. But then I saw a container of buttermilk and there it was. It hit me like a meteor. "I want pancakes." I have always enjoyed buttermilk pancakes and the best are a very simple, straight forward recipe of home made buttermilk pancakes. So here I was under the influence of summer fruit and buttermilk pancakes. That's just a natural combination. "I want blueberry buttermilk pancakes." So I buy all my stuff last Saturday, August 9 and am very excited because Miami isn't exactly a hub for buttermilk sales and notice that the buttermilk does not expire until 8/16. So I am psyched. I can have my blueberry buttermilk pancakes on Sunday morning. That's Sunday August 10th. But Sunday August 10th comes along and did I make my blueberry buttermilk pancakes? No. I was just lazy and thinking about a grueling work week and now I can't remember if I even ate breakfast. But in the back of my mind, and fridge, there was a bottle of buttermilk just waiting to expire. It came and went in my head several times and each time I pushed it away like a bad memory. "Don't think about the buttermilk!" I would scold myself. I'll find something else for it before he dies. I'll make fried chicken! But that was just a fleeting thought, there was no way in hell I was going to stand in my 93 degree kitchen, before a bubbling cauldron of boiling oil looking like one of the witches from MacBeth and fry chicken. Oh hell no. It is just too hot for that. This is a Florida August. It just can't be explained.
So in my mind, back crept the blueberry buttermilk pancakes. That pesky buttermilk just waiting to turn into something blue and goopy in my fridge weighed heavily on my mind. Saturday, August 16th, yesterday, came and went, but I was intent on my breakfast of champions. I woke this morning and was determined to make those damn blueberry buttermilk pancakes. So I trudged into the kitchen and boldly grabbed that expired buttermilk. I looked at that bottle with fear and courage. A strange mix to be sure but there it was. I did the only thing a person could do in such a quandary. I marched over to my sister and said, "taste this and smell this and tell me if it's still good." Now she is the kind of person who believes that expiration dates are something of a lie. I am the kind of person who goes by the rules and even though my buttermilk was about 8 hours expired, that was enough for me. She looked, smelled and tasted and said it was fine, then noticed the date and smirked. This is typical of her behavior, but I am very secure in her knowledge about expired foods. She was even on to some bad milk that went bad before the expiration date. Now that's a food detective. But I digress going on about her food prowess. Everything was ready.
Flour,
Sugar
baking powder,
baking soda,
salt
sift this into a bowl and then,
buttermilk,
eggs,
melted butter
mix until just blended. plenty of lumps no smooth batter here.
pour your desired amount into your hot skillet and top with those plump blueberries.
And there they were, after at least 2 weeks of waiting I got my pancakes.
Now I don't know if they were absolutely the best pancakes I have ever had because I waited so long, because of all the obstacles we faced, or because they were just that damned good, but they were absolutely perfect! A small smear of unsalted butter and a drizzle of maple syrup. How do I describe that bite? I can't. You just have to try it yourself.
I only thought of taking the picture after I started eating.
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