I bought some pancake mix when we moved to Arizona, and as such have made pancakes a few times. I’ve learned something very crucial about making pancakes during these few experiences: Kyle cannot watch me making pancakes.
I think that I make great pancakes. They’re fluffy and big, but not so fluffy and big that the middle isn’t cooked. Sad, flat pancakes that are less than a quarter inch thick make me cry on the inside. And do you know how you make fluffy, thick pancakes?
You don’t over mix the batter.
And how do you prevent over mixing? You mix the wet ingredients with the dry ingredients just until moistened. This allows the leavening agent in the pancakes to fluff up the pancakes to heavenly happiness. What happens is that the leavening agent releases little gas bubbles that get trapped in the batter. As the pancakes bake, they bake around the gas bubbles making fluffy pancakes. It also means that the pancake batter is lumpy.
Kyle apparently believes that pancake batter should be beaten with a whisk until every last lump has been (literally) beaten into a smooth, thin batter. Instead of getting trapped in the batter, all the gas released by the leavening agent is whisked out of the batter into the air. Smooth thin batters make sad, skinny pancakes that entail the aforementioned crying on the inside from me.
It doesn’t matter whether you make pancakes from scratch or if you buy the cheap Wal-Mart brrand, in my experience this is true across the board.
So every time I mix pancake batter, Kyle looks at it and says, “Honey, you need to get a whisk and beat the batter more! There are lumps!” And I explain that I want lumpy batter, but that the pancakes themselves will not be lumpy. They will be delicious and fluffy. And without fail, my pancakes turn out exactly how I want them. I usually also mention that if he wants lump-less batter and sad, skinny pancakes he is free to make them his own dang self.
Maybe now that I’ve publicly shamed his foolish pancake-batter-beliefs on my blog he will remember my science lesson, and revel instead in my great pancake abilities. But one can only hope.