Pulverized Cookie Pancakes
I spend half of my daily life with three teenage boys. I do my best to prepare decent meals at regular times, served with cogent and illuminating dinnertime discussions of world affairs and great art.
I fail about 98 percent of the time and make shit like this.
Now and then, for breakfast, the boys request a certain kind of pancake. When I bring them to the table, the young lads attack them with the ferocity of wolverines.
So here’s the recipe. These bastards are easy to make.
First, do the usual pancake-batter crap. Combine flour, milk and eggs. If you think one egg is enough, use two. You might have to use a little water to make the flour the right consistency. I am a great fan of eyeballing it. If you want exact amounts’n’shit, then redirect your browser to RachaelFuckingRay.com right now.
The boys request thin and crispy pancakes on occasion, so more liquids are required then. Other times, they want the pancakes fat and puffy, so adjust the water and milk accordingly. If you want, use cream instead of milk. If you’re feeling uptown, toss a little sour cream into the batter. Those of you with trust funds might want to add ricotta cheese.
In short, roll with the punches. Freestyle it. Once you’re blending all this in a stainless-steel bowl with a whisk, your imagination will take hold. (Or perhaps the drugs will.)
After this batter-blending reverie (get all of those goddam lumps out of the mix), it’s time for the money shot. Put four or five cookies — I recommend Oreos — into a sandwich bag. Then, grab the kitchen hammer and beat the living fuck out of the contents of the bag. Mix that in with the batter.
I set the griddle for 300 degrees. I plop a big-ass spoon of butter on the griddle and watch it hop. Then I spread it around and ladle onto the grill perfect spheres of pancakeness.
Serve with heated 100-percent maple syrup.
I’ve also used Butterfingers in the batter. Butterfingers is my favorite candy bar, so it is a splendid sensation to encounter that candy-bar perfection in the middle of a fluffy pancake. We’re pondering trying a Crunch bar. The possibilities, if not endless, are plentiful. However, avoid snickerdoodles at all costs.
The boys dig these. First time you make them, though, you might have to explain the color to the residents of your kitchen table. The cookie parts — at least with Oreos — turn the pancakes the color of mold. The weaker of stomachs might be taken aback. This is not for the squeamish — or those with blood-sugar issues.