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Buttermilk Pancakes with Vanilla and Cinnamon -- When the Tradition Is the Point

Christmas. My year. My house. My morning. The alarm went off at 5:47 AM — not because I set it, but because Lily has an internal clock calibrated to Christmas morning with the precision of an atomic timepiece. "MAMA. SANTA." The scramble to the tree. Tom was already up — he'd stayed over, which is the new normal, which is what family does — making coffee in the kitchen while the kids tore through the living room.

Mason: a geology field journal (professional grade), new books (always), a cooking apron that matches his first one (the "Data-Driven Chef" one needed an upgrade). He held the field journal and said, "This is for real geologists," and I said, "You are a real geologist," and he looked at me with the gratitude of a child who has been told he is already the thing he's been working to become.

Lily: riding breeches (show-quality), new boots (she grew again — the child grows upward at a rate that terrifies me), a plush horse (her collection now rivals a small ranch), and — the big one — a gift certificate for fifty riding lessons at Sunshine Stables. Fifty. Almost a year of lessons. She looked at the certificate and her eyes went wide and she said, "FIFTY," and then she screamed, and then she cried, which is the first time I've seen Lily cry from happiness since Jasper the stuffed horse, and the crying was beautiful.

Tom gave me a necklace — a small silver horseshoe pendant on a chain. Simple. Perfect. He said, "For luck. Though you don't need it." I put it on and haven't taken it off.

I made Diane's cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning. The tradition. The constant. Mason helped roll the dough — his hands are bigger now, stronger, more practiced. He's learning the recipe the way I learned it: through repetition, through his hands, through the years of standing beside the person who makes them. The cinnamon rolls were perfect. They always are. And the center one went to Lily, because it was her year, and the gooiest roll goes to the person who needs it most, and Lily always needs it most.

Christmas dinner: Tom's trout and my roast chicken, together, the two proteins of our two kitchens merged on one table. Brett and Claire. Six people. Small and complete. The candles lit. The food passed. The gratitude said aloud: for five years of survival, for a pandemic that didn't break us, for a kitchen that held everything, for the people at this table who stayed.

The cinnamon rolls are Diane’s recipe — they’re not mine to share, and that’s exactly as it should be. But the feeling of that Christmas morning, the cinnamon in the air and Mason’s hands in the dough and all six of us still in pajamas at the table — that feeling is something I want to be able to give to any morning that needs it. These buttermilk pancakes with vanilla and cinnamon are how I do that on the other 364 days: same warmth, same scent, same sense that the person who made them was thinking about you when they did.

Buttermilk Pancakes with Vanilla and Cinnamon

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

Ingredients

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine salt
  • 2 cups buttermilk, shaken
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled, plus more for the pan

Instructions

  1. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt until evenly combined.
  2. Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the buttermilk, eggs, and vanilla extract. Add the melted butter and whisk once more.
  3. Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a spatula until just combined. A few lumps are fine — do not overmix or the pancakes will be tough.
  4. Rest the batter. Let the batter sit for 5 minutes while you preheat your griddle or skillet over medium heat. This gives the buttermilk time to activate the leavening.
  5. Cook the pancakes. Lightly butter the pan. Pour about 1/4 cup batter per pancake. Cook until bubbles form on the surface and the edges look set, about 2 to 3 minutes. Flip and cook another 1 to 2 minutes until golden. Adjust heat as needed — every stove runs differently.
  6. Serve immediately. Transfer to a warm plate and serve with maple syrup, softened butter, or fresh fruit. The center ones are always the best ones — give those to whoever needs them most.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 57g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg

Heather Dawson
About the cook who shared this
Heather Dawson
Week 226 of Heather’s 30-year story · Boise, Idaho
Heather is a forty-two-year-old vet tech, divorced single mom, and cancer survivor who grew up on a cattle ranch in southern Idaho. She beat Stage II breast cancer at thirty-two, lost her marriage six months later, and rebuilt her life around her two kids, her three-legged pit bull, and her mother's cinnamon roll recipe. She cooks ranch food on a vet tech's budget and doesn't sugarcoat anything — except the cinnamon rolls.

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