Over the summer I went on a three week road trip across the US and up the pacific coast. I’ll save the why and how for another time but let me just say the US is huge and diverse. I don’t think it’s really possible to know just how huge and diverse unless you drive the whole thing. When you drive, you feel the distance and changes in between destinations. But that can make for the best times because the in-between allowed us to spot things we didn’t plan to go to or know about, and then make some of our favorite memories.
My parents and I were headed to Mt Hood along the north side of the Fruit Loop when we saw signs for Lavender Valley. We still had a while ahead of us on a long driving day. We needed a break. My mom and I convinced my dad to follow the signs. I didn’t really expect lavender for a hot second because hipsters name their locales all types of fancy and evocative words, but this place was legit lavender fields. My first time in a lavender field! And the smell! I’d imagined the smell would be like sticking my whole face into a heavy sticky perfume but it was fresh, delicately aromatic. The women working at the products stand were kind to let us walk into the fields wherein we had a view that outdoes anything Provence’s fields can offer. Provence can suck it, Provence can’t see a volcano from its fields (I’m kidding, I’m just upset I can’t afford to travel there). In the late afternoon light, bees going to town all around us, natural beauty in abundance, I fell in love with lavender all over again.
I was inspired to come up with a new lavender-flavored recipe. I planned to think of something after the trip. But life gets in the way. Upon returning home I started working more hours while trying to use the rest for practicing (given I had the motivation and energy after work) and didn’t give much thought to cooking for a while. A lot of my culinary life was lived out of the frozen aisle. Wicked Kitchen’s Buffalo chicken hand pies are amazing in case anyone needed to know, and they’re welcome to sponsor me at any time.
A few months went by. John came home from work one night and announced we should go out, so I put on pants. That night we hit up The Harth Lounge, a jazz bar with a powerful Aviation, followed by Low Spark Bar near Music Hall. Since he’d already researched Low Spark, John pointed to a drink on the list full of flavors I love. It was called the Violet Beauregard, but it sadly had nothing to do with violets (my number one favorite culinary flower and scent). It is lavender-infused Tito’s Handmade vodka, Cointreau, lemon, blueberry, rosemary, egg white, and plum bitters. It made a huge impression on me, not just because it was amazing but tastes are upped by, like, a factor of ten when you’re near drunk. I remember saying, “This would make an amazing pancake. I’m gonna make this into a pancake.” And John thought that was an awesome idea.
A couple days later, I made the drink into a pancake. A buttermilk pancake, to be precise. All the culinary lavender so long languishing in a bag in a box in a cupboard with all my spices, seeing light only when I went in to grab salt and pepper, now emerged into the world so that it could be mashed in a mortar. It doesn’t make the biggest difference if you don’t grind them, it’ll still taste like lavender, but grinding the buds into the sugar made the pancakes taste a little more even. I opted to buy rosemary since a tablespoon of it diced would have made our little plant bald. In other words, you need more rosemary than you think. Another suggestion: if you have a new kitten, put him in another room because he will be in your business sniffing and licking everything, or else trying to hang with you by hanging off your pants leg causing you to drop all your goddamn blueberries all over the goddamn floor.
So there you have it. A pancake with too many words in the title.
- 2½ cup all-purpose flour
- ¼ cup granulated sugar
- 2 tsp baking powder
- 1 tsp baking soda
- A pinch of Kosher or Mediterranean salt
- 1 tbsp culinary lavender buds
- 1 tbsp finely minced rosemary
- 1 tsp lemon zest
- 2 large eggs
- 1 cup buttermilk
- ¼ cup mildly-flavored extra-virgin olive oil
- ½ tsp vanilla extract
- ½ cup blueberries or more to taste.
- Using a mortar and pestle, grind the lavender buds into the sugar until they're opened and aromatic.
- Whisk together the flour, sugar, lavender, baking powder, rosemary, salt, and lemon zest until evenly mixed.
- Add the egg, buttermilk, olive oil, and vanilla. Mix until just incorporated, or until there are no pockets of dry ingredients. Any further and you risk overmixing.
- This step depends on how you want your blueberries dispersed. If you don't care, throw 'em all in and gently fold into the batter. If you're like me and you do care, wait until the next step.
- Lightly coast a cast iron skillet or other pan that heats evenly with butter or olive oil. Use the scantest amount possible and wipe away the excess. Heat over medium-low until water droplets sizzle and evaporate (the Leidenfrost Effect). Two tablespoons at a time, form the pancakes. If you haven't added blueberries, plop them in at even intervals and use a little batter to cover them. Let heat through until bubbles form on top and the bottom is browned to preference. Flip. Don't worry if blueberries burst and spill juices.
- Serve with a pat of high-quality salted butter for the best effect, or honey butter. Best paired with coffee or earl grey. Bacon is also awesome.