Bill + Nigella = Fluffiest Pancakes Ever

Back in the day, when I thought nothing of hand-whisking egg-whites on a Sunday morning till my biceps (and the starving children) cried out for mercy, I was a devotee of Bill Granger's Ricotta Hotcakes With Honeycomb Butter.

They were sublime.

But unless you have something significant riding on brunch (like a ring) or you're a male celebrity chef whose children are most likely being tended by a wife or nanny off-screen (ouch - sorry, Bill), these hotcakes represent an awfully big commitment.

So I turned to Nigella, patron saint of lazy, hungry girls and harried mothers everywhere.

What her American Pancakes lacked in delicacy, they made up for in speed and ease.

And as sporting events began to dominate our weekends, this no-frills affair became the Sunday morning go-to recipe.

But, although well received by DB, our resident pancake buff, the truth is they just never did it for me.

Like so many of their bretheren, they bore that heavy, leaden quality that has me inwardly groaning at first sight, let alone last bite.

Fast forward many moons and empty calories later, to a rare brain-wave between Christmas parties:

I now had a free-standing mixer (thank you, CB)....

What if I combined Bill's stiff egg-whites technique + Nigella's speedy recipe?

It may not be E=mc², but, then again, it might be.

It's all relative.

Try this: use your favorite recipe, but separate the eggs.  Incorporate the yolks as you would the whole egg.  Meanwhile, beat the whites to stiff peaks and fold into the batter as the final step.

Then, prepare yourself for a long session at the stovetop, because the calls for "MORE!" will keep you busy.

Just don't miss out a stack for yourself.  The only groans will be pleasure induced.