December. Christmas prep. Pregnancy plus Christmas plus book promotion plus a three-year-old equals a level of multitasking that should qualify me for a medal.
The Christmas baking, year three in the desert: adjusted for pregnancy (no standing for hours — batch in stages), adjusted for the oven (twenty degrees hot, always), adjusted for Caleb (who wants to 'he'p' with everything and whose help costs approximately forty-five extra minutes per recipe).
Caleb and I made gingerbread dinosaurs. Not gingerbread men — gingerbread DINOSAURS, because this child will not eat a cookie that isn't shaped like a prehistoric reptile. I bought dinosaur cookie cutters at the PX and we cut T-rexes and triceratops and something that Caleb says is a stegosaurus but looks more like a lump with spikes.
He decorated them with green icing (because dinosaurs are green, according to Caleb, who has never met a dinosaur and therefore has no evidence). The cookies were... artistic. In the way that a three-year-old's art is artistic, which is to say: chaotic, covered in sprinkles, and beloved.
The book ARCs went out this week. Fifty copies, to fifty reviewers, in fifty mailboxes across the country. Fifty people are holding my book RIGHT NOW. Reading my words. Forming opinions. This thought makes me want to hide under the kitchen table.
Clara says, 'The reviews will be good. The book is good.'
'How do you know?'
'Because your mother is in every page. And nobody reads about a mother's love and walks away unmoved.'
A mother's love in every page. That's the book. Donna's love, measured in recipe cards and casseroles and the thirty years of dinner at 1800 that held a family together.
Mom sent her Christmas care package: cookies (her browned-butter chocolate chip), dried herbs from the garden, a new apron for Caleb (his third — he's building a collection), and a tiny onesie that says 'Kitchen Assistant' for Hazel.
A Kitchen Assistant onesie. For a baby who won't be born for two months. Donna Abernathy is pre-staffing her granddaughter's kitchen career.
Made Mom's peppermint bark tonight. No baking. Melt and pour. Desert-proof and pregnancy-proof. Caleb helped crush the candy canes with a rolling pin, which he did with the destructive enthusiasm of a person who has been waiting his entire life for permission to smash things.
Christmas. Dinosaur cookies. Fifty ARCs in the world. A baby named Hazel who already has a uniform.
The kitchen staff grows.
After an entire afternoon of gingerbread dinosaurs—the cutting, the decorating, the enthusiastic over-sprinkling courtesy of one three-year-old sous chef—it turns out that gingerbread fever doesn’t just stop at cookies. The next morning, with fifty ARCs somewhere out in the world forming their first impressions and Caleb already asking when we could make “more dinosaur ones,” I wanted something that carried the same warm, molasses-and-spice magic without requiring me to stand at the counter for another hour. These gingerbread pancakes are exactly that: all the cozy, festive flavor of the cookies, in a form that comes together fast, requires minimal cleanup, and is absolutely Caleb-approved for “he'ping.”
Easy Gingerbread Pancakes
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4 (about 12 pancakes)
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1 cup buttermilk
- 1/4 cup molasses
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 1 large egg
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- Butter or nonstick spray, for the pan
- Maple syrup and powdered sugar, for serving
Instructions
- Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg until evenly combined.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, molasses, brown sugar, egg, melted butter, and vanilla extract until smooth.
- Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined—a few lumps are fine. Do not overmix or the pancakes will be tough.
- Rest the batter. Let the batter rest for 5 minutes while you heat the pan. This helps the leavening activate and gives you fluffier pancakes.
- Cook the pancakes. Heat a large skillet or griddle over medium heat and lightly grease with butter or nonstick spray. Pour about 1/4 cup of batter per pancake onto the surface. Cook until bubbles form across the surface and the edges look set, about 2–3 minutes, then flip and cook another 1–2 minutes until cooked through.
- Serve. Serve warm, dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with maple syrup. A dollop of whipped cream or a sprinkle of extra cinnamon never hurts.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 380mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 295 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.
