Amma and the Pancakes

My grandmother, whom we all called Amma – Icelandic for "Grandma" – was a tiny woman, maybe 4 ft 10, and that’s probably stretching it. She had bright blue eyes and long, long, salt-and-pepper-but-mostly-black hair that she always kept in a neat bun inside a hair net. She had a habit of always wringing her hands together, which I learned much later was to ease the pain of arthritis or rheumatism.

When Amma was about to cook something, or bake cookies, she would put on her apron and scurry into the kitchen. I remember the kitchen counters were all low, to fit the short women in my family. Even the stove was lower (wish I had one of those myself!), so she could cook comfortably. My favorite of all she used to cook for us was her thin pancakes, and by thin I mean almost paper thin, pretty much like crepes, only a bit sweeter.

`She would take out her special black, heavy frying pan with low sides, designed especially for Icelandic pancakes (recipe at end), put it on the stove to heat, and then mix the ingredients by hand. She was not going to trust any newfangled mixers to do that job for her. No way! Out came the flour, sugar, milk, salt … and in they went into her big white-speckled blue mixing bowl. Then she took out her pancake ladle that measured out just the right amount each time – something like a quarter cup. Now the production started. We stood at her side, waiting impatiently for the first few pancakes to be done and on the plate beside the stove. No one was allowed to even taste test before there were as many pancakes as kids standing around her.

But, first she had to whip the thick cream that would go inside the pancake, and bring out the jam or jelly that also was a part of the finished deal. THEN she could start on the pancakes themselves.

She ladled the mix onto the fry pan, then tilted it this way and that til the pancake was just the right thickness. Then waited a minute or so (felt a lot longer than just a minute) and turned it over with a fork. She’d lift the edge of the pancake with that fork and sort of roll it a bit, lift and flip. And brown the other side just slightly. When it was done, she’d put it on the plate. We would stand there and drool, knowing that as soon as there were enough, she’d give us each one.

To eat the pancake was an art in itself. First a spoonful or two of jam – best jam was always a plum or raspberry one, then a healthy dollop of the whipped cream. Fold the pancake in half, then again in half – so it looked a bit like a triangle with the cream and jam in the middle. Squish the cream and jelly inside the pancake to mix them. Then the fun part. Bite a hole into the tip of the folded pancake and slurrrrrrrrrrrp out the cream and jam. Then eat the rest of the pancake as quickly as possible to start on the next one.

By the time she’d finished the batter, and she was a speedy pancake maker, there were, miraculously, enough pancakes left for dessert or afternoon coffee for us all, and amma and afi (Icelandic for Grampa), and often an aunt or uncle who happened to be nearby.

RECIPE:
Icelandic Pancakes (or Crepes) with Whipped Cream. Batter: 3 cups flour, 4 eggs, 3 tbs. butter (melted), 1/2 tsp. baking soda, 1/2 tsp. baking powder, 1 tsp. vanilla essence, 2 ½ -3 cups milk. Directions: Separate egg whites and beat until stiff. Mix together all other ingredients and add the egg whites last. Bake paper-thin on a hot cast-iron griddle (about 9 inches in diameter). Spread with preserves, jam or jelly, one tablespoon whipped cream. Fold into triangles. Serve with afternoon coffee or as dessert. (Traditional)