Somewhere in the not so far off distance, just inside the boundaries of our garden is the cowardly sniggering sound of a rabble of squirrels ( I’m not sure that is the correct terminology to use when describing a large group of furry tailed rats but it’s the first thing that came into my head ).
Their beady jet black eyes catch my sight and almost seem to give me a sly wink as they gather in their droves outside my back door like a troublesome gang of adolescents waiting to hurl some abusive language or start an unprovoked attack on some of the more less obtrusive kind of wildlife that had grown to see our small unpretentious yard as a sanctuary and haven from all things that threatened their tiny lives. Now it seems that they are under some kind of heavily levied forced protection that the squirrels are blackmailing them into taking, only swiftly staying for a moment or two on the bird feeders before a menacing looking squirrel shows up and stamps his authority.
Not content with ruining and upsetting the copious amounts of flourishing flocks of blue tits, chaffinches and alike they have now taken to craftily navigating their way over the electric fence that protects our veg patch and destroying my highly coveted strawberry patch.
Being the yobs that they are, protective nets have been gnawed through and unwanted discards left over from the fruit have been casually littered in the surrounding areas. You may think I am taking this a little too seriously or that I am quite deranged from living as a country bumpkin for too long but I welcome you to come round to our house to see the wretched creatures ridiculing me as they sit there quite comfortably on the fortress that was my nearly completed summer house, chomping on my precious strawberries and spitting the seeds out onto my lawn.
In no way do I wish to harm or physically distress these deceitful creatures but after one of them sank their teeth into the back of our poor little jack russell , poppy, they have just slapped me in the face with their gloves and thrown them down on to the floor declaring all-out war. If it’s a war they want it’s a war they shall get.
I’ll just re – adjust my composer again as I remember what it was I was here to talk about in the first place – Strawberries.
Not wishing to drag my little infestation on any longer but if it wasn’t for those pesky critters my tenderly nurtured strawberry patch would be brimming with robustly rouge soft fruit, alas all I can find on the runners I carefully cut and replanted out at the end of the summer last year are some bare green stalks and rotten carcases that look a shadow of their former selves.
All through those last few glorious weeks we had at the end of March I could see my strawberry plot swelling, almost bursting with greenness and tiny white flowers which indicated we were in for a bumper crop. Thoughts of juicy ice cold sorbets, memorable village show winning jams and strawberry meringue mountains swamped my dreams and left my husband and me in competition to see who could get out to the strawberry patch first and retrieve the golden prize of finding the season’s first strawberry. There is no other taste quite like it, and I mean it, within a small delicate bite the exquisite tastes release themselves and harbour a poignant mark on all of your most receptive senses. Sweet, but not too sweet, soft but not sloppy the strawberry is a marvel of modern day life and one that should be adored in every shape or form.
So with only a pitiful amount of strawberries to work with I thought It would be best to use them as a superior accent to a dish I have been covertly conjuring up for some time.
I have not gained access to the highly regarded soufflé club yet, I wish to acquire all the correct apparatus before I embark on such a revered dish, but in much needed practice I have formulated a dish which in no way shape or form represents the grand master but more so that of a lesser servant that tries hard to embody their masters soft feather like interior whilst maintaining a grand stature.
These pancakes are a doddle to make will impress your friends and combined with the strawberries, make a dessert that will undoubtedly make a repeat performance, just as long as you can stop any pesky and highly insulting squirrels from stealing all of your crop!
Soufflé Pancakes - serves 4 or two embarrassingly hungry folk!
3 free range eggs – separated
¾ cup of self – raising flour
1 tblsp of caster sugar
¾ Greek yoghurt or milk
Butter
Fresh Strawberries to serve
In one bowl whisk your egg whites slowly until they reach soft peak stage. At this point add the caster sugar and whisk again on a higher speed for a few minutes longer.
In another bowl combine the egg yolks, flour and the yoghurt /milk until thoroughly mixed together.
Add one tablespoon of your egg white mixture to your egg yolk mixture and mix carefully then gently add the rest of the egg white mixture until it has all been carefully folded in.
Put a large frying pan onto a medium heat and add a generous knob of butter, once the butter starts to foam add large table spoons of your pancake mixture in single drops making numerous small pancakes around your pan. Take care not to add too many as they will spread a little whilst cooking.
Once the pancakes start to form small air bubbles on the surface, it’s time to flip them over and give them a little cooking on the other side (about another minute).
Finish off cooking the rest of your batter once the other ones have been removed from the pan, adding a fresh globule of butter every time you cook a new batch.
Serve with fresh fruit.
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