Ginger Beer Pancakes

I have often claimed to have invented the ginger beer pancake, so it’s time I shared the recipe.

It’s quite easy and delicious.

You will need:

1 Cup (250mL) ginger beer (I find Bundaberg the best)

1 Cup self raising flour

2 eggs

A tsp salt

A tsp dark brown sugar

A pinch of nutmeg

Instructions

Beat the eggs until they are nice and frothy.  Add about half the Ginger Beer and mix gently.  Continue beating gently and sift in the flour and add the salt/sugar into the mixture.  Add a pinch of nutmeg.

Now heat olive oil in a pan.  Wait until the oil is running freely and you’re ready to cook the pancakes.  Add the rest of  the Ginger Beer into the mix  and stir in just before it’s ready to be cooked.  Spoon palm sized (or whatever size you like really) amounts of mix onto the hot pan.  Let it cook until bubbles form.  It is ready to turn when most of the bubbles have popped and it starts firming up around the edges.  Flip it upside down and toast until golden brown.

Serve with your favourite Canadian maple syrup (don’t buy the cheap stuff!) and or Ice-Cream (French Vanilla works best).

Yum!

Current Mood:

Stuff

I keep stuff. Call me a sentimental but I have a habit of hoarding things, years after their use by date. It drives people mad. I have a shitload of things sitting in the family home. I can’t bear to throw any of it away. It’s a reminder of experiences I had, the emotions I felt, dreams at the time, and the people I shared them with.

Take alcohol for instance. I’m a social drinker, and my drink of choice is Ginger Beer. Anything stronger tastes like medicine. And yet I collect the stuff.

I have a bottle of Villa Maria 1998 Sauvignon Blanc. I got it for my 21st Birthday. It’s not an expensive bottle of wine.  Chances are, it tastes like vinegar by now. Yet I keep it as a reminder of my 21st, which wasn’t particularly memorable. I had my flatmates, my lab (I was a research student), and a couple of friends around. It was 1999, but we didn’t party like it. I worked really hard that year, harder than I’ve ever worked in my life. I worked my arse off for a BMedSci. A degree I am never going to use.

I have another bottle of wine. A Selini Semilon Late Harvest 2003. I was so happy to find it that I bought three bottles of it. It’s a reminder of what someone meant to me. I will disembowel myself with a rusty teaspoon before I let anyone drink it.  It’s the only one left.

Then there are the bottles of wine from my 30th Birthday. Why the hell does everyone give me alcohol on my Birthday? By the time I’m 80 I’ll either have a very valuable collection or become an alcoholic.

I have eight unicycles. I don’t ride half of them anymore. My 26″ Muni hasn’t been ridden in 4 or 5 years. I broke my ankle on it in the Himalayas, and then spent 2hrs crawling through leech infested ground to the next village, and 10hrs or so being carted out on horseback. And yet the unicycle made it back with me to Kathmandu. I may not ride it, but it’s still my baby. A very kind family looked after me there and taught me what it means to put other people first. I think about them when I see that unicycle.

There is a dusty box in my room. In it is a collection of assorted coral and seashells. It reminds me of when I was a kid, when we went on holidays to the beach. I loved the beach. I could smell it a mile away.

It’s not just my own stuff I hoard. I have an assortment of tools, a lawnmower, various gizmos and widgets. They belonged to Alex. They meant alot to him, and now even more to me.

One day I might actually figure out how to use half that stuff!

Current Mood: