Pancakes are one of the few universal foodstuffs.
Almost every culture has its own variation, and at their core, they are simple: batter, heat, and a little patience. Somehow, somewhere along the line, we let things go sideways. We let the sugar merchants win. We allowed pancakes to be hijacked by syrup-swamped, powdered-sugar-dusted, fruit-laden monstrosities. And for what? A fleeting sugar rush followed by the inevitable crash? Enough. It’s time to state the obvious: savoury pancakes are objectively better.
Sweet pancakes are, at best, a flimsy excuse for dessert masquerading as breakfast. At worst, they’re a structural disaster, collapsing under the weight of saccharine excess. Nobody actually enjoys more than one syrup-drenched pancake. They endure through the rest of the ‘stack’. It’s a sticky, cloying affair—forks stuck to plates, fingers a mess, your stomach collapsing in on itself halfway through. The pancake itself is lost beneath a landslide of toppings, a mere vehicle for sugar rather than a dish in its own right. It’s a breakfast you can only eat when you don’t actually need to function for the rest of the day.
Savoury pancakes, on the other hand, have integrity. They’re balanced, purposeful. They can be crisp or fluffy, delicate or hearty, stuffed or folded, but crucially, they respect the fundamental rule of a good meal: contrast. You get salty, creamy, umami, maybe a little spice, a little acid. They don’t need to be drowned to be delicious. A perfectly cooked buckwheat galette with a runny egg, ham, and cheese? Unbeatable. A kimchi jeon, fried to crispy, tangy perfection? Sublime. Scallion pancakes, torn into flaky layers and dunked in soy sauce? A triumph.
And the versatility! Like most sweet treats dessert pancakes are a one-note affair: sugar, maybe fruit, maybe chocolate, rinse and repeat. Savoury pancakes? Infinite possibilities. Fold them around spiced lamb and yoghurt, wrap them around mushrooms and blue cheese, serve them with smoked fish, stack them with crispy bacon, or stuff them with melting brie and sharp pickles. They can be light or indulgent, a starter or a main, a snack or a feast. They fit into any meal, any mood, any time of day. A sweet pancake is just dessert in disguise. A savoury pancake is a meal.
More importantly, savoury pancakes actually make sense. Nobody feels worse after eating one. There’s no regret, no sugar crash, no moment of staring at a sticky, empty plate wondering what you’ve just done to yourself. Instead, there’s satisfaction. A full belly and the knowledge that you’ve eaten something genuinely good, not just a morning-adjacent sugar bomb.
And yet, despite their obvious superiority, savoury pancakes remain unfairly sidelined. Cafés churn out the same tired stacks of Nutella-drenched, banana-laden sponges, while the true potential of the pancake remains untapped. Where is the smoked trout and dill crème fraîche? The garlicky mushrooms and taleggio? The fried chicken and hot honey? Pancakes deserve better. We deserve better.
Savoury pancakes are not an alternative. They are the gold standard. The thinking person’s pancake. The peoples princess. The rightful heir to the griddle. It’s time to stop treating them like a novelty and start giving them the respect they deserve.
Sweet pancakes are for children. Savoury pancakes are for people who know how to eat.
