Apple-Cinnamon Quinoa Pancakes

Christmas week. My Christmas. The kids are mine this year — all of December 24 and 25, the full magic window, the stockings and the tree and the morning and the dinner. I have been waiting for this the way you wait for spring after the longest winter: with patience, with planning, with the certain knowledge that it was coming and the uncertain knowledge of what it would feel like when it arrived.

Christmas Eve: I made the dinner. Roast beef (not turkey — roast beef is the Dawson Christmas tradition, has been since before I was born). Mashed potatoes (Mason's now — he insisted, and I let him, because they are his and he has earned them). Rolls. Green bean casserole. And pie — not pumpkin this time, but apple, because apple is Christmas and pumpkin is Thanksgiving and the distinction matters.

Brett and Claire came. Just the five of us. Small and right. We ate at the table by candlelight, and Mason said grace (his turn — he said, "Thank you for the food and the family and the science kit I hope I'm getting tomorrow"), and we laughed and ate and it was Christmas Eve and it was mine.

Christmas morning at 5:52 AM. Both children, on my bed, bouncing. "SANTA CAME! SANTA CAME!" The sprint to the tree. The tearing of paper. Mason: books (always), a rock tumbler (Brett's gift — this man gives the best gifts), a set of cooking tools — a child-sized chef's knife, a whisk, measuring cups. His own cooking tools. He held the knife with reverence. He said, "Now I can cook for real." Yes. Now he can. Lily: a toy horse (she screamed), a cowgirl hat (she put it on immediately and hasn't removed it), art supplies, and a gift certificate for Sunshine Stables. She read the certificate with Rosa's help-taught reading skills and said, "MORE RIDES," and put the cowgirl hat on the toy horse and declared Christmas a success.

I made Diane's cinnamon rolls for breakfast. From the dough Mason and I made and froze. They came out of the oven golden and gooey and the house smelled like every Christmas morning of my childhood, and Mason and Lily fought over the center one (Mason won; it was his year), and I ate one standing at the counter with coffee and watched my children eat cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning in our house and I was here. I was here. Against all odds and all fear. I was here, and the cinnamon was sweet, and the morning was bright, and the world was exactly the right size.

I called Mom at 10. She said, "Merry Christmas, baby." I said, "Merry Christmas, Mom." She said, "Are the rolls good?" I said, "The rolls are perfect." They always are. They always will be.

That Christmas morning smell — cinnamon warming in the oven, coffee brewing, children still half-asleep but buzzing with joy — is something I want to hold onto long after December fades. Diane’s cinnamon rolls belong to that memory now, sealed into it forever, but on the mornings when I want to bring that same warmth back without the full production, these Apple-Cinnamon Quinoa Pancakes are what I reach for. They have the apple of our Christmas pie and the cinnamon of those golden rolls, packed into something hearty enough to fuel a rock-tumbler-wielding, cowgirl-hat-wearing morning — and they make the house smell just right.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4 (about 12 pancakes)

Ingredients

1 cup cooked quinoa, cooled
1 cup whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons brown sugar or maple syrup
2 large eggs
1 cup milk (dairy or unsweetened almond milk)
2 tablespoons melted butter or coconut oil
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 medium apple, peeled, cored, and finely diced (about 1 cup)
Butter or cooking spray, for the pan
Maple syrup and sliced apples, for serving

Instructions

Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the whole wheat flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and brown sugar until evenly combined.
Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate medium bowl, beat the eggs, then whisk in the milk, melted butter, and vanilla extract until smooth.
Combine the batter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined — a few lumps are fine. Fold in the cooked quinoa and diced apple. Do not overmix.
Rest the batter. Let the batter sit for 5 minutes while you heat your pan. This allows the baking powder to activate and the quinoa to absorb some moisture.
Cook the pancakes. Heat a nonstick skillet or griddle over medium heat and lightly grease with butter or cooking spray. Pour about 1/4 cup of batter per pancake. Cook until bubbles form across the surface and the edges look set, about 2 to 3 minutes, then flip and cook another 1 to 2 minutes until golden and cooked through.
Keep warm and serve. Transfer finished pancakes to a baking sheet in a 200°F oven to keep warm while you cook the remaining batter. Serve stacked with maple syrup and extra apple slices.

Nutrition (per serving)

Apple-Cinnamon Quinoa Pancakes — The Morning That Smelled Like Christmas