Bisquick used to greet me in the kitchen with a cheery disposition. “Howdy, partner! Let’s make pancakes! How about biscuits? Try your hand at chicken pot pie!” If you think I actually heard a box of Bisquick talking to me in my apartment. . . you may be right. We were old chums. This was one of my best survival tools. The addition of a couple of eggs or a cup of milk unlocked a universe of recipes. A casserole dish and four hundred degrees took care of the rest.
A single cup of Bisquick helped me cook like a man when I graduated college and moved into an apartment. It was simpleton cooking, of course, but I felt accomplished in adding dumplings to chicken soup. Fresh biscuits in the morning were nearly perfect. Admittedly, I am not keen on proportion. The easy-to-read recipes on a Bisquick box are usually meant to feed a Boy Scout troop. I seldom require 15 pancakes on a Saturday morning, but there’s something to be said for leftovers. There was plenty for my roommates, too!
I wandered only once from Bisquick and regretted it ever since. I tried a blueberry pancake mix that used only H20. . . it was really pilot error, which I shan’t describe in today’s post. Suffice to say, the disaster is employed as comic material by my wife for parties. Well, that’s just batter under the bridge.
I returned to Bisquick yesterday morning. Old friends reunited, back in the saddle like Butch and Sundance! It was a triumphant swing at pancakes that my wife actually appreciated.
Chocolate Chip Pancakes
What you’ll need: 2 cups Bisquick, 2 eggs, 1 cup of milk, 1/2 cup chocolate chips
1. Stir those ingredients! Don’t forget to stretch. We typists have plenty of exercises, but those are trade secrets and it’s none of your business.
2. Add the chips when the mix transforms into delicious batter. Don’t eat the batter. That’d be silly.
3. Using a ladle or hollowed-out coconut, pour the batter on to a hot, greased pan. Wait until the edges are nicely brown and the center is bubbly before flipping to the other side.
What to do if you screw up: I do not flip pancakes with finesse. Sometimes the edges curve inward and the pancake looks like a deflated whoopee cushion. But hey, why not curve ’em deliberately and call them pancake omelets? Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Notes for the lactose intolerant: unless my wife reads this, she won’t discover that I used lactose-free milk in the mixture. But hey, I can’t use the real dairy and the substitute tastes like the real thing!