pancakes and cold

I spent my first weekend attempting to acclimatize. It has not been very cold until today. Having finally slept at night, I awoke around four on Monday morning. I piled on the auxiliary duvet, checked the temperature outside [-30º C / -22º F] and remained cocooned beneath the layers with Netflix until seven.

Partially inspired by the diner scene in Pulp Fiction and unequipped with measuring cups of any denomination, I began mixing eggs and butter in the dark while heating the finicky stovetop. The first result tasted mildly of olive oil residue, but a little melted butter and organic honey made for a surprisingly successful breakfast.

The semi-grand experiment

For those curious, here is the recipe:

1 small mug of milk plus a dash more if it's too lumpy
1 small mug of baking flour
2 eggs or maybe 3
1 small knob of butter, melted
1 generous shake of caster sugar

Mix it all in a salad bowl with a small ladle. There will be unanticipated lumps. Heat a pancake-shaped pan for at least ten minutes [if using a Finnish stove]. Use the same small mug from before to scoop and pour batter into pan. Watch as the first pancake browns nicely, then scramble to flip it with a cheese slicer to prevent it burning. Repeat three more times. As Matt Berry so eloquently put it, "hot, and consumable with butter."

Swedish-ish pancakes with butter and luomuhunaja

By eight I was fueled, and headed up to the studio. Working from a pile of sketches from Sunday, I did a minimal ink and gouache piece, prepared some larger pieces of paper on the wall and easel, and decided it was too cold to do more until later. The sun is rising at last, but I have resolved to spend as much time as possible curled up under a blanket with a sketchbook. Tomorrow looks to be warmer, and I may finally brave the 15 minute bicycle route into town for a supply run. Mostly I just need more salmiakki.

Sketches