The pancake has to be one of the greatest inventions to have graced mankind, no doubt about it. I feel almost as guilty eating a pancake for breakfast, as I do a sweet potato for dinner. There is something special about eating an exorbitant amount of pancakes as your first sustenance for the day that I hold close to my heart. My only problem with pancakes has nothing to do the the cake itself, but it’s accomplice, fruit. Fruit is yummy, it is great, it goes well with pancakes, but it has no business monopolizing the pancake topping industry! I think that it is about sweet time sweet potatoes give all of those sweet, complacent fruits a run for their sweet money. Betty Crocker, let’s do this!
Sweet Potato Pancakes
- 2 cups Original Bisquick™ mix
- 1 cup buttermilk
- 2 cup mashed cooked dark-orange sweet potatoes
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- Maple syrup if desired
- In medium bowl, stir Bisquick mix, buttermilk, sweet potatoes, eggs, cinnamon and sugar with wire whisk or fork until blended.
- Brush griddle or nonstick skillet with vegetable oil; heat griddle to 350°F, or heat skillet over medium-low heat.
- For each pancake, pour slightly less than 1/4 cup batter onto hot griddle. Cook until edges are dry. Turn; cook other sides until golden brown. Serve with syrup.
I’m heartbroken. The best way I can explain how I’m feeling is expecting to enjoy a caramel chocolate See’s Candy at your Grandma’s on Christmas Day, but instead, biting into a chocolate whose taste more resembles a distant memory of childhood medicine than its sorry excuse for cherry. You can probably tell I’m pretty heated; pancakes have been a staple of my family since I was born. I never thought that one day they would betray me. The pancake had no flavor. There, I said it. I know it wasn’t the sweet potatoes fault because I snuck a taste in its mashed state and it was heavenly. The only other culprit was the pancake batter. The dash of cinnamon was the only thing I could taste, proudly taunting me, standing victorious over the rest of the downed flavors in the ring. The only redeeming quality of the hot cake was its texture. Its unique and satisfying feel momentarily tricked my taste buds into thinking that it must at least taste edible. Maybe I forgot an ingredient, idk, doesn’t matter. You know what? Fruit can have it. Let them take over the market. As the avocados and pecans of the world duke it out to even get a chance to share the pancake’s throne, sweet potatoes will watch from the sidelines with pleasure. They don’t need any help, they are perfect just the way they are.