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Chocolate Buttermilk Pancakes with Homemade Salted Caramel Sauce -- The Birthday Morning I Made for Them (and for Me)

My birthday. Thirty. I am thirty years old. The number feels significant in a way that twenty-nine did not — thirty is the end of youth, or at least the end of the excuse of youth. I can no longer say "I'm in my twenties" as a justification for anything. I am a thirty-year-old man with two children and a marriage and a grill and a smoker and a cast-iron skillet and a life that is more complicated and more nourishing than anything I imagined when I was seventeen and the world was a basketball court and the future was a scholarship that never came. Brianna gave me a cookbook — Rodney Scott's "World of BBQ." The man is a legend, the godfather of whole-hog barbecue, and his book is a bible for anyone who takes smoking seriously. She inscribed it: "You keep surprising me. Keep going." The inscription was the gift. The book was the wrapping. Mama called at midnight. Year sixteen. Same story. Wheel of Fortune, Dad driving fast, 11:47 PM, eight pounds two ounces. "He has opinions." I will never not need this story. I will need it when I am fifty and sixty and beyond, because it is the story of my beginning, told by the voice that was the first voice I ever heard. Jerome, Darius, and I went to the bar. Same tradition. Hennessy, basketball, laughter. Darius brought cigars (he smokes now, apparently, which Mama does not know and which I will not be the one to tell her). Jerome told a story about Miss Doris that involved a raccoon, a broom, and a pot of collard greens, and I laughed until my stomach hurt. The bar was dark and warm and full of men who know each other well enough to be quiet between the jokes. Thirty. Here I am. Not where I planned. Somewhere better. Somewhere harder. Somewhere real. I made breakfast for the family on my birthday morning. Pancakes, bacon, eggs. The meal I have made a hundred times, the simple meal, the foundational meal. Aiden sang "Happy Birthday" with maple syrup on his chin. Zaria said, "Happy Dada!" Brianna smiled, and the smile was real, and the morning was gold, and I turned thirty standing in my kitchen with flour on my hands and my family at my table and the knowledge that this — all of this — is mine.

I’ve made the simple breakfast — pancakes, bacon, eggs — more times than I can count, but on my thirtieth birthday I wanted to do something that matched the weight of the morning. Chocolate buttermilk pancakes with homemade salted caramel sauce felt right: still the foundational meal, still flour on my hands and the pan on the flame, but elevated just enough to say this day is different. Aiden got syrup on his chin either way, and Zaria didn’t know the difference, but Brianna smiled — the real smile — and that was the whole point.

Chocolate Buttermilk Pancakes with Homemade Salted Caramel Sauce

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4 (about 12 pancakes)

Ingredients

  • For the Pancakes
  • 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1 1/2 cups buttermilk, shaken
  • 2 large eggs
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1/2 cup mini semi-sweet chocolate chips (optional)
  • Butter or neutral oil for the griddle
  • For the Homemade Salted Caramel Sauce
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces, room temperature
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream, room temperature
  • 3/4 teaspoon flaky sea salt (or 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt)

Instructions

  1. Make the caramel first. Heat the sugar in a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally with a heat-proof spatula. The sugar will clump and then melt into a deep amber liquid — watch it carefully and remove from heat the moment it’s fully melted and golden-brown, about 8–10 minutes.
  2. Finish the caramel. Carefully add the butter pieces all at once (the mixture will bubble vigorously) and stir until fully melted. Remove from heat and slowly pour in the heavy cream, stirring constantly. Stir in the sea salt. Let cool 10 minutes. The sauce will thicken as it cools.
  3. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until combined.
  4. Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the buttermilk, eggs, melted butter, and vanilla extract.
  5. Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a fork or spatula until just combined — lumps are fine. Do not overmix or the pancakes will be tough. Fold in chocolate chips if using. Let the batter rest 5 minutes.
  6. Heat the griddle. Heat a non-stick skillet or griddle over medium heat. Lightly grease with butter or oil. The griddle is ready when a few drops of water flicked onto the surface dance and evaporate immediately.
  7. Cook the pancakes. Pour 1/4 cup of batter per pancake onto the griddle. Cook until bubbles form across the surface and the edges look set, about 2–3 minutes. Flip and cook until cooked through, another 1–2 minutes. Transfer to a warm oven (200°F) on a baking sheet while you cook the remaining batches.
  8. Serve. Stack pancakes on plates and drizzle generously with the warm salted caramel sauce. Serve with bacon and eggs alongside for the full birthday morning spread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 620 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 84g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 540mg

DeShawn Carter
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 180 of DeShawn’s 30-year story · Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.

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