Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Stuffed pancakes

I haven't dared get excited about the sunshine for fear of jinxing it - so I'm sort of ignoring it, pretending it's not there. ("Oh I see, a really sunny day again. Whatever.") I've never been that bothered about sunshine - it's nice but really any old weather will do. But with a toddler - even one refusing to toddle, such as Kitty - life is 100% easier if you can doss about all day on a patch of grass somewhere poking at beetles, rather than sweatily pulling on three layers of fleece and puffa and marching grimly down the road to stare gloomily at some goats at the City Farm.

And the good thing about my parents' house, despite it being 800 miles from the nearest shop, pub or tube station, is that is has a massive garden - beetles galore to poke at. And a slide! We may never leave.

Especially not as my mother stuffs us all full of food, all day long. I don't really eat lunch these days, I can't be bothered. But my mother will not take no for an answer and follows me around with halves of sandwiches and peeled segments of apple. And every night she puts dinner on the table for no fewer than five people. Pow, pow, pow, night after night. She's never in a piss about it - like I always am - never in a screeching fury about the relentless grind of it. She just does it. I know that's what most people's mums do, what most of you do, it's just impressive to see it close up.

A recent hit was stuffed pancakes. A lot of you have probably had enough of these after Shrove Tuesday, but if you never got round to it, they are absolutely delicious. Kitty scoffed the leftovers the next day. Kitty is, by the way, roundly humiliating me by eating things out of my mother's hand that she won't touch from me.

Anyway these pancakes are just an assembly job, really. One for a Sunday night, when you've got a weeny bit more time maybe. Make the crepes with a normal pancake batter, sautee ham, mushrooms and whatever else you want, stuff and roll the pancakes and arrange in a line on a baking tray then pour over a cheese sauce (white sauce plus cheese) and cover with grated gruyere, emmenthal, parmesan or any other rubbery/hard cheese you've got knocking about. Stick in the oven for 15 mins at 180C.

No if you'll excuse me, I've got to go and have minor surgery; I'm not allowed to eat anything after 11am today so I've got an hour to raid the fridge. It's nothing serious so don't get all excited that I might finally drop dead. But feel free to be sympathetic all the same.


  1. POOR ESTHER. Hope it is not too grim. The sunshine/your mama will make it all better! x

  2. I have also stuffed pancakes with a ragu and smothered in cheese sauce, just as though doing canelloni, before baking. Works.

  3. I always look forward to your posts.

    You make me laugh.

    Thanks. x

  4. Thanks for this recipe, my mum used to make something similar when I was little and everytime I ask her about it she has no idea which recipe it was. Hope the op went well.

  5. It's true. Only since becoming a mother have I realised that making dinner night after night day in day out is like having your face slowly grated off.
    This pancake thing will be a useful addition to my pesto jar.
    And I actually like cooking.
    Only another 17 years to go...

    1. "like having your face slowly grated off" - What a fabulous phrase!

  6. I hope I will be doing the same for my 3 when they are all big. Can't think of anything better than this apart from adding in a few bits & pieces from the allotment.

  7. Not wanting to sound AT ALL patronising - this is great thing to teach your children to make. Except they make such a flipping mess of the kitchen in the process and for days you will be standing on the grated cheese.
    It's at this point you realise you have become the efficient mother who gets on with it without complaining, uses one or two pots and has everything tidied away at the point the meal is about to be served. Maybe it's just age.
    Hope op is swift.

  8. They sound nice.