Patience is a virtue.
Not one of my virtues – of which there are many, thanks – but generally… It’s a nice thing some good folks have.
Sometimes in life, I like to think that impatience is also a virtue – and one of my better ones, thanks.
Layers of flaky pastry, for example. We love them, yes? Do we want to spend hours creating them? Well, if you’re relocating to Paris to learn the secret of how to make the perfect croissant, yes you do. You’re also insane. I like you, make me breakfast, please.
I’m not moving to Paris, I’m staying in London, in my pyjamas, and scuttling over the road to buy a roll of puff pastry because I have a craving for freshly cooked flaky niceness, and I’ll do all the chopping and cooking, and even a bit of the rolling and folding, but not all of it. Woman wants pancake and she wants it now.
Eh? says you.
Indeed, says I.
I’m not on about the kind of pancake you pour into a pan and drown in syrup or fruit or what have you (nothing wrong with those, mind), I mean the kind I used to get from the local Chinese restaurant back in the day, made of layers of fried flakiness and chopped spring onions – scallions, if you will. Can’t seem to find those pancakes round here, so I’m rolling up my pyjama sleeves and making them myself. The easy way.
Puff pastry already has dozens of alternating layers of dough and fat, which create the flakes, so I only have to create a few more layers with onions in, squish flat, fry, and happily consume.
Impatience: a virtue.
Lazy: who doesn’t like pyjamas, right?
Let’s do this thing.
- 1 roll Puff pastry
- 1 bunch Spring onions
- 1 tbsp Toasted sesame oil
- 1 tbsp Vegetable oil (for frying)
Start by chopping the onions very finely – they’ll be pressed between many layers of pastry, so the finer the better.
Unroll your sheet of pastry onto a lightly floured board (I didn’t use flour – I’m a fool, be less foolish than I) and brush the surface with sesame oil, then evenly scatter a few fistfuls of spring onion.
The above snap doesn’t look like much, onion wise, but remember that there will be more, and you don’t want onion overkill.
Gently roll the pastry up, like a jelly roll if you will – some choose to twist the roll before the next step.
I’ll leave that up to you. I trust you.
Twisted or not, curl the roll up into a tight spiral. Then, it’s time to squish.
Grab a rolling pin and squish the curled up roll flat.
Brush with more sesame oil and scatter with more onion, roll, possibly twist, curl and squish.
Repeat the rolling and curling, without the onions and oil, just to get in one more layer of flaky niceness.
Look how fat and full of yum!
I say we squish it again, bung it in a frying pan on medium-high heat with a glug of veggie oil, and keep it moving round the pan so it doesn’t burn, flipping once or twice for evenness.
THEN I say we mix a bit of cider vinegar with some soy sauce and say hello to your lazy mid-morning snack.
Actually, it’s mine – make your own, what ever time it is where you are.
And actually, don’t say hello, that’s kind of weird – just dip in the sauce and eat.
Yummy noises optional, but always appreciated.
Speaking of lazy, I’m now in the mood for all the noodles and stir fries and other things that are usually in the takeaway bag underneath the scallion pancakes. This is why the telephone was really invented, no matter what those books about that Bell dude try to tell you.
I need to ring a man about some cashew chicken.
You need to go buy puff pastry.
I’ll meet you back here, I’ll be the one in the PJs and Doc Martens with traces of soy sauce on my face.
(It’s sexy, you love it.)