How to Make 7 Global Pancakes: Dutch Baby, Soufflé, Pajeon (and a few delicious detours)#

So, uh, pancakes are my love language. Not the neat diner stacks only, I mean the wild ones from everywhere: big puffy Dutch babies that deflate like a balloon you forgot to tie, jiggly Japanese soufflé cakes that look like clouds, crispy savory Korean pajeon that you dip in tangy soy sauce and try to share but you don’t. I’ve kinda been chasing them across kitchens, friends’ apartments, and… you know… streets where the best food usually hides. I’ve burnt a few, flipped some onto the floor, made batter that tasted like paste. But when they hit? Magic. Pure.

Why these 7? A tiny pancake passport#

I wanted a plate that feels like a small world tour: Dutch Baby (Germany-meets-Seattle vibes), Japanese Soufflé Pancakes, Korean Pajeon, French Crêpes, Vietnamese Bánh Xèo, South Indian Dosa, Ethiopian Injera. Some sweet, some super savory, all very different. And lately brunch has gone kinda global anyway — in 2025 I keep seeing menus swing savory with chili crisp drizzles, black sesame butter, yuzu syrups, even ube-lilac stacks popping up everywhere on social. Plant-based pancake mixes are getting better, and alt flours like teff, sorghum, and buckwheat are having a moment because people care about flavor and like, climate friendly grains. It’s not all fluff; it’s texture, contrast, crunch.

Dutch Baby: the pancake that ate the oven#

My first Dutch baby came out like a trampoline. I used a screaming hot cast-iron and almost forgot to add the butter — don’t do that. The batter is basically popover batter: eggs, milk, flour. If you want exact-ish: 3 large eggs, 150 ml milk, 100 g flour, pinch salt, splash vanilla, tiny spoon sugar if you want it breakfast-sweet. Blend. Let it rest 10–30 minutes so the flour hydrates. Heat the pan at 425°F/220°C until it’s actually hot (like a 10-minute preheat), toss in 2 tablespoons butter, swirl, pour the batter, back in the oven, don’t open the door. Bake 18–22 minutes. It’ll climb up like a tidal wave, then calm down when it hits air.

  • Tips I learnt the hard way: room-temp eggs, hot pan, and don’t overfill. A squeeze of lemon + powdered sugar is classic, but I’m obsessed with miso-honey butter lately… just saying.

Japanese Soufflé Pancakes: soft, jiggly, slightly dramatic#

Okay these are tricky but worth it. Everytime I make them I feel like a kid doing a science project. You whip a meringue (3 egg whites + ~40 g sugar + a pinch of cream of tartar) to glossy stiff peaks. Separately, whisk yolks with 30 g milk, a bit of vanilla, and 30 g cake flour. Fold meringue into yolk batter gently — don’t beat the air out. Low heat, ring molds if you have them (I cut them out of an old parchment-lined tuna can once… desperate times), a little oil, scoop batter high, cover to trap steam, cook 4–5 minutes each side. They should wobble like a happy puppy.

  • Flavor updates I keep seeing in 2025: ube soufflé stacks with coconut cream, yuzu lemon curd, and black sesame crème. Plant-based versions use aquafaba meringue; just be patient, it whips slower.

Korean Pajeon: scallion thunder, crackly edges#

Pajeon is weekend food for me. Loud, oily, crispy, perfect with a beer and that tangy dip. Basic batter: 1 cup all-purpose flour + 1/3 cup rice flour (this is the crisp magic) + 1 tablespoon cornstarch + 1 egg + 1 cup cold water (or sparkling for extra crisp). Salt. A mountain of scallions, cut into 2–3 inch bits. Heat neutral oil till shimmering. Batter goes in, scallions pressed down, more batter drizzled over. Cook hot until the edges are lacy brown, flip once. Don’t overmix. If you want haemul pajeon, add shrimp and squid.

  • Dipping sauce ratio that never fails me: 2 tbsp soy sauce + 1 tbsp rice vinegar + 1 tsp sesame oil + pinch sugar + gochugaru + sliced scallions + toasted sesame seeds. Double it. You’ll want more.

French Crêpes: thin, silky, foldy, 2 am snack material#

Crêpes are the first pancake I learned to not mess up. Batter is simple: 1 cup flour, 2 eggs, 1 1/4 cup milk, 1 tbsp melted butter, pinch salt. Rest it 30–60 minutes so it turns from meh to silk. Nonstick or a well-seasoned steel pan. Medium heat, brush of butter, swirl a thin layer, loosen edges with a spatula, flip with courage. My sweet favorite: brown sugar + lemon + a bit of butter. Savory: ham, gooey cheese, runny egg, cracked pepper. Or go 2025 with tahini-maple and roasted bananas — kinda everywhere and not mad about it.

Vietnamese Bánh Xèo: turmeric gold with lacy crackle#

Honestly? Bánh xèo makes me feel like a pro even when I’m not. Batter: 1 cup rice flour, 1/2 tsp turmeric, 1 cup coconut milk or water (I do half and half), pinch salt, sliced scallions. Heat the pan super hot, oil generously, pour a thin layer, tilt fast for lacy edges, add shrimp, thin pork slices, a handful of bean sprouts, then cover for a minute. Fold like a taco, eat with herbs and lettuce, dunk in nuoc cham (fish sauce + lime + sugar + water + garlic + chile). It’s loud and messy and perfect.

  • If yours won’t crisp, the pan’s not hot enough or the batter’s too thick. Add a splash of water. Also, don’t skimp the oil — it’s part of the magic.

South Indian Dosa: fermented, tangy, brittle crisp heaven#

Me and him went to a little Chennai spot years back that ruined me for mediocre dosas. At home, soak 1 cup rice + 1/2 cup urad dal with 1/2 tsp fenugreek seeds for 6 hours. Grind smooth with enough water, then ferment overnight till airy and tangy. Salt it. Hot tawa or cast-iron, a ladle of batter spread in circles super thin, a drizzle of ghee or neutral oil around the edges, cook till deep gold. Fill with masala potatoes (mustard seeds, curry leaves, turmeric, onion, green chiles), fold into that giant paper fan and pretend you’re sharing.

  • Fermentation hack: if your kitchen’s cold, pop the bowl in the oven with the light on, or set the bowl on an induction cooktop on the lowest warmth. Don’t let it cook — just cozy.

Ethiopian Injera: teff tang and thousands of tiny eyes#

Injera is one of those foods that sticks in your brain. Slightly sour, spongy, full of bubbles — perfect for scooping stews like misir wot. Do a pure teff version if you can: 2 cups teff flour + enough water to make a thin batter. Ferment 2–3 days till it smells pleasantly sour and bubbly. Traditional method uses a bit of absit (a paste made by cooking some batter and stirring it back in) to feed the microbes and encourage those signature holes. Pour onto a hot nonstick or a mitad if you have one, cook covered, no flipping. When the surface sets with little craters, done.

  • Teff’s been trending as a climate-smart grain and honestly the flavor’s so good. If you can’t find pure teff, mix teff with a bit of whole wheat or barley, but I’d rather wait and grab the real thing.

Okay, but are pancakes changing? The 2025 brunch energy#

It’s not just sugar bombs anymore. Everywhere I go, pancakes are picking up savory moves — chili crisp on buttermilk stacks, kimchi scallion cakes, tahini syrup, black sesame butter, even koji-butter on crêpes if you’re in a nerdy chef-y spot. I’m seeing pop-up brunch counters playing with pandan and yuzu, and more places offering gluten-free rice flour mixes that actually don’t taste like cardboard. Smart induction griddles that hold temps steady are becoming standard in new kitchens — fewer burnt edges, more consistent browning. Also, pancake boards at home are still a thing somehow… bite-sized stacks, fruit, spreads, a drizzle of everything. Chaos on a platter, which I love.

Anecdote time: the pancake that made me shut up for a second#

Last winter, I made a Dutch baby after a long day, like 11 pm? Batter rested too long, honestly, but the thing puffed up huge, and I threw on roasted persimmons and a spoon of miso maple butter and there was this quiet moment where the kitchen smelled nutty and warm and I forgot my phone existed. Food moments like that… they don’t happen everyday, but pancakes hit them alot.

Quick, messy notes before you cook#

  • Preheat matters. For Dutch babies and crêpes, heat the pan fully or you’ll get sad pale pancakes.
  • Rest your batter. Crêpes and Dutch baby batter relax and hydrate. Soufflé pancakes are the opposite — use the meringue fresh.
  • Spritz of cold or sparkling water helps pajeon stay crisp. Don’t overmix or you’ll lose bubbles.
  • Ferment with intention. Dosa and injera need warmth and patience. Cold kitchens are not your friend.
  • Oil isn’t the enemy. Bánh xèo and pajeon want crackly edges — a little extra fat gets you there.

Ingredient upgrades I’m loving right now#

Milk swaps: oat or soy work fine in crêpes and Dutch babies, but watch sweetness. For soufflé pancakes, keep proteins similar or the meringue will sulk. Flour fun: teff for injera, rice flour for bánh xèo and pajeon crisp, cake flour for soufflé tenderness, a spoon of buckwheat in crêpes for that Paris street flavor. Flavor boosters: yuzu powder, ube extract, pandan paste, miso-honey butter on anything. And yes, chili crisp on pancakes sounds wierd but it slaps when the base is savory.

How I’d do a 7-pancake brunch without crying#

Not gonna lie, making all seven in one morning is chaos. Here’s how I don’t lose it. Day before: ferment dosa and injera batters. Prep crêpe batter and rest it in the fridge. Chop scallions, mix pajeon dry stuff and keep the water chilling. In the morning: start with Dutch baby (18–22 min is hands-off), while it bakes you crank out crêpes. Next, pajeon — serve hot. Then bánh xèo one by one, your crowd hovers, it’s fine. Dosa last for max crisp. Soufflé pancakes? Make them for the person you like most because they’re time-sensitive. Or save them for a chill afternoon snack.

A pancake is humble. It doesn’t ask for much. But if you give it heat, patience, and a tiny bit of flair, it gives back more than it has any right to. That’s why I keep making them when I should probably, you know, do a salad.

Mistakes I keep making (and how you can totally avoid them)#

Opening the oven door on a Dutch baby. Don’t do it. It will sag like my willpower. Forgetting to rest crêpe batter — you can taste the difference, promise. Whipping aquafaba meringue for soufflé pancakes too fast; it breaks. For dosa, not rinsing the urad dal well makes it taste muddy. With injera, I rush the ferment cause I think I’m smarter than nature — I’m not. Pajeon goes rubbery if I overmix, and bánh xèo loses crisp when I chicken out on heat. Learn from me and my slightly fried brain.

What to serve with all this — quick table ideas#

Dutch baby: lemon, powdered sugar, miso-maple butter, roasted fruit. Soufflé pancakes: berry compote, yuzu curd, black sesame cream. Pajeon: soy-vinegar dip, kimchi, cold beer. Crêpes: ham, Gruyère, jam, Nutella (don’t judge). Bánh xèo: herbs, lettuce, nuoc cham, cucumbers. Dosa: sambar, coconut chutney, masala potatoes. Injera: misir wot, shiro, gomen. It’s a small world on a table, basically.

Final bites and a tiny nudge#

I get borderline obsessed with pancakes because they’re like people — same idea, wildly different outcomes. A Dutch baby is drama, a crêpe is calm, pajeon is party, dosa is patience. If you try any of these, tag me mentally and tell me how it went. And if you’re hunting more food stories and rabbit holes, I keep finding good stuff on AllBlogs.in — lots of inspo when I’m deciding what to cook instead of doing actual adulting.