“No self respecting roast of beef should appear without Yorkshire Puddings, those light crunchy hollow puffs just made for holding lots of rich brown gravy. Originally they were made in one large pan, the one that had been sitting under the roast catching the drips as the meat turned on the spit. Nowadays, they are most often made in individual pans, but there’s no rule saying you can’t use a flat pan as in the days of yore.” ~ Jean Hoare

2 or 3 eggs                                           1 cup (250 ml) flour
1 cup (250 ml) milk                               ½ tsp (2 ml) salt
2 tbsp. (25 ml) hot roast drippings

1. Have both the eggs and the milk at room temperature. Use 2 eggs if they’re large, 3 if they’re small.
2. Beat eggs with an egg whip until they’re light and frothy.  Add flour and milk.
3. Don’t add the salt just yet – check the drippings first. If they have lots of salt, then cut down on the quantity used in the Yorkshire Puddings.
4. Beat eggs, flour and milk until the batter resembles thick cream.
5. Let stand for several hours, if possible, but the world won’t fall apart if you let it stand a few minutes only.
6. Just before pouring it into the pan, add the 2 tbsp. hot roast drippings and give the mixture another good beating.
7. Pour some more of the drippings and brown juice from the roast into muffin tins or a large 9” by 13” (3.5L) pan.. Either way, there should be about ¼” (1 cm) drippings in the bottom of the container.
8. Put the pan into the hot oven to get both the pan and the drippings as hot as possible.
9. Carefully pour the batter into the smoking hot fat, and return to 450 degrees oven for 20 to 30 minutes. Yorkshire Puddings made in a flat pan will puff up in strange peaks like mountain ranges. Those in the muffin tins will form hollow cups, rising above the pans to about double their original size.
10. Serve immediately, but if that’s not possible, leave the puddings in a 350 degrees oven until needed, no more than 10 minutes.

In 1956, Jean Hoare decided to open a restaurant in her big old ranch house nestled in the foothills of Southern Alberta ranching country. It was off the beaten track and the well was prone to going dry. The closest town, Claresholm, was 8 miles away, and that was where they hauled water from…up to three times a night. But, the food rivaled the setting and the reputation of the Driftwood Room grew for the next 10 years. This was ‘down home’ in spades! (To find out about what happened next, see: The Flying N Caesar Salad.)