I’ve made versions of these crispy, delicate little fried cabbage pancakes at restaurants and in my very own home, where they are a breakfast staple. I’ve often watched my mom bulk them up with canned salmon and loads of the week’s forgotten vegetables. We’d eat them over bowls of hot grits or rice. To me, they are reminiscent of okonomiyaki (loosely translated as “grilled as you like it”), a popular savory pancake from southern Japan. I like to drizzle Spicy Sorghum-Miso Mustard (page 110) over them.
If Ukrainians ever voted on their favorite breakfast dish, syrnyky—little pancakes made with farmer cheese—would be the clear winner. Pretty much every Ukrainian, regardless of his or her skill in the kitchen, knows how to make this dish. Here’s my favorite tried-and-true recipe (which, I am proud to say, has become the go-to recipe in many Ukrainian households!).
Syrnyky are traditionally served with sour cream or jam, but feel free to experiment with other toppings, such as maple syrup, peanut butter, and fresh fruit. You can even drizzle the pancakes with a little caramel sauce!
When you make syrnyky, your choice of farmer cheese is of great importance. It should not be too dry—if it is, the syrnyky will not hold their shape well—but neither should it be too watery. If there is a lot of whey left in the cheese, you should strain it through a sieve with cheesecloth and let the liquid drain.
When I hear people say they don’t like buckwheat, I inevitably think, “That’s because you’ve never had my buckwheat pancake.” At Friends & Family, our baked buckwheat pancake is a fan favorite. We warn customers that their order will take up to 20 minutes, but the prospect of waiting doesn’t deter them. Thicker and more filling than a regular flapjack, one buckwheat pancake is enough for me. You could make these entirely with buckwheat flour, but I use some all-purpose flour for a more balanced flavor profile. The pancake is finished in the oven, which imparts a dreamy fluffiness and a crispy exterior. Starting the pancake on the stove allows for an evenly brown, crispy layer, while finishing it in the oven promotes the batter in the center to rise and gel into a light and airy pancake. Once you get the hang of this technique, it’s possible you won’t make pancakes any other way.
My daughter loves zucchini (courgettes). When she was very little, she collected some leftover change, saving it until she had a little pile of coins. I was surprised. My daughter is a princess and has everything she needs. But she showed me her savings and told me, “Daddy, I want to buy zucchini.” So that Sunday, my sacred no-work day, we headed to our favorite farmers’ market, Danilovskiy Rynok. I taught her how to pick out the best produce, and then we came home and made these oladyi, something between a pancake and fritter. Since then, they’ve become a staple in our home and we’ve even put them on the menu at both White Rabbit and Gorynich, where they’ve become bestsellers.
I suspect my daughter loves these pancakes more than she loves her father; if you add maple syrup, no wisp of doubt remains. All you need to add for the perfect Sunday morning is good coffee, the papers and the prospect of a good lunch cooked by someone else.
This cake is Hungarian in origin, but it’s also popular in parts of northern Serbia that were under Austro-Hungarian rule until the turn of the twentieth century. It’s commonly called Madjarska Palacinka Torta or Hungarian Pancake Torte. Our mothers and grandmothers would typically bake it for Sunday lunch because it’s so quick to make. The layers are somewhere between a pancake and a crêpe, and are sandwiched with various fillings. Almost always, there are walnuts, the most popular nut in the western Balkans. As my aunt used to say: “It isn’t a cake if it doesn’t have walnuts.”
This recipe comes from Miss Lily’s, a Jamaican-themed restaurant in New York City.