Skip to main content

Potato pancakes

I had a birthday recently, and my parents' present this year was a couple of cookbooks to add to my collection.  They are both collections of vegetarian recipes, and manage to incorporate things I would actually cook, which are also slightly different to what I cook all the time.  Cottage pie?  Sure.  Indian spiced vegetarian cottage pie?  Now that sounds interesting.




So the other day I was feeling adventurous, and came across a recipe for potato pancakes with spiced beetroot in the Accidental Vegetarian.  Is it me, or has beetroot become fashionable all of a sudden?  I can't remember when I last ate beetroot, never mind cooked with it.  In my head it was firmly tucked away with other weird muddy knobbly vegetables like celeriac and artichokes, that you've vaguely heard of but wouldn't have a clue what to do with.  And then suddenly you pick up a supermarket magazine and the cover story is something like, 10 best things to do with beetroot!

Anyway, the beetroot?  All well and good.  Turns out you can pick up a packet of it for about 80p, all ready-cooked and peeled and everything.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy, as Toby is fond of saying.

The potato pancakes?  Well, have you had those moments where you're halfway through some process and it's taken twice as long as you thought already and you wonder why you ever started?  Yeeaaahhh.  One of those.

Boil potatoes.  Yup.  Easy enough.  Pass through potato ricer or sieve.  Umm, I'm sure a potato ricer is very useful and all, but it's not something I've ever felt led to spend money on.  Until now, when I'm discovering exactly how tedious it is to try and push potatoes through a sieve.  Jesus talked about camels going through the eye of a needle; I could give him another illustration if he needed it.  Not being a chef, he probably never even considered that anyone might be dumb enough to want to sieve a potato.  (Although - how dumb do you have to be to want to get a camel through a needle, either?)

After much bashing and scraping, I gave up and tossed the rest of the potato into the mixing bowl.  If I mix it with the electric mixer, that'll work, won't it?  Add the flour.  Add the milk, gradually.  Aaagghhh!  The mixture's not only clogging up the beaters, it's creeeeeping up the stems and... quick!  Turn the mixer off before it becomes completely engulfed in mashed potato!  Drat.  Drat drat drat drat.

Scrape it all off.  Resort to spatula for mixing.  Wonder how there got to be bits of potato stuff all over the floor, the tiles, the fruit bowl and the pot of baking powder.  Look guiltily at watch and realise the boy should have got up from his nap twenty minutes ago, but hey, he's still sleeping and I. will. not. let. this. beat. me.  Somehow, this bowl of lumpy oatmeal slop is going to turn into pancakes.

Heat up frying pan.  Realise that the recipe's "large spoonful" equates to about a half-cup measure.  In what world is that a large spoonful?  Pour in the mixture.  Spread it out...

You know what?  Somehow, it did turn into pancakes.  They weren't bad, either, and the recipe made lots, so I have some in the freezer that I can pull out and serve without the two hours of crazy mess-making work.  Even Toby ate them (and appears to like beetroot, of all things) and he is being incredibly fussy about eating dinner right now.

Lest you think it was a completely happy ending... Toby still wasn't up when Graham got home from work, which is far too late, and he'd napped so long he woke up wet and incredibly cranky, and I felt like a horrible mum, and... oh yes, it was all fun and games for a few minutes.

But look!  I tried a new recipe!  I didn't get a photo of the beetroot version, and it really wasn't as photogenic as the beautiful picture in the book, anyway.  So here's the breakfast incarnation.  Greek yoghurt, fresh pineapple and a drizzle of maple syrup.  Mmmmm.


Anyone have a potato ricer they want to give me?

Comments

Sally Eyre said…
We love ours, pop over and borrow it if you want? Having gone through a couple of metal ones which bent out of shape, plastic is the way to go.

Popular posts from this blog

Mr White Watson of Bakewell

Once upon a time, back in 1795 or so, lived a man who was always asking questions.  The kind of questions like, "Why is glass transparent?" or "Why do fruit trees grow better in that place than in this place?" or "What does the earth look like underneath the surface?"  This last question was one that he was particularly interested in, and he went so far as to work out what the rock layers looked like where he lived, and draw little pictures of them.  Now he was a marble sculptor by trade (as well as fossil hunter, mineral seller, and a few other things) so he thought it would be even better to make his little pictures in stone.  That way he could represent the layers using the actual rocks they were composed of.  Over the course of his lifetime he made almost 100 of these tablets, as he called them. Then he died.  And no one else was quite as interested in all those rocks and minerals as he was.  His collection was sold off, bit by bit, and the table...

The Imitation of Christ: Spiritual Formation Book 2

"This is my hope, my only consolation, to flee unto thee in every tribulation, to trust in thee, to call upon thee from my heart, and to wait patiently for thy consolation." The second of my  four books for spiritual formation  is The Imitation of Christ  by Thomas à Kempis.  The introduction to my copy starts off by saying that 21st century readers may wonder why they are bothering, which hardly seems like a recommendation!  I have to admit I finished it with a certain sense of relief, but there were some hidden gems along the way.  It's rather like reading the book of Proverbs.  There's no story or explanation of a theme, but there are astute observations, honest prayers, the occasional flash of humour, and quite a lot of repetition. Thomas à Kempis was a priest in an Augustinian monastery in the 1400s.  Presumably his life conditions favoured the silence and solitude that he advocates for in  The Imitation of Christ , but also gave him opp...

Trekking through the Bible

It was about Exodus 39 that I began to spot the similarities. I'd started  back in December , reading the gospel of Luke. Then I'd moved on to Isaiah - enjoying the much-loved poetic prophecies, and realising I'd forgotten how much of it was railing against Moab, Tyre, Tarshish and Edom - and after that I turned to page one, In the beginning...  and reckoned, with solemn determination, that I could make it all the way through the Pentateuch in one go. That's the first five books of the Bible. The Law. The Torah. Genesis was great. Of course, I couldn't read the narrative of Joseph without hearing the music from Technicolour Dreamcoat  in my head ( seven fat cows came up out of the Nile, uh-huh-huh) . It's an excellent story. And so into Exodus, and the equally flamboyant story of Moses. But halfway through the book of Exodus comes the Ten Commandments, and it all changes. The Israelites are in the wilderness and the reader is too, with nothing but rules, regulat...