Shrove Tuesday was originally the last day of enjoying fatty foods before the ritual fasting of Lent, which begins on Ash Wednesday. Pancakes became popular as a good way to use up all the rich foods such as eggs, milk and sugar that would spoil during the fast.

Sweet or savoury, they are a versatile foodstuff found all over the world. Fluffy American stacks, lacy French crêpes, nutty Russian blinis, squat Scottish dropped scones, lentil-rich Indian dosas and spongy Somalian lahoh, all fall under the same banner. But before we embark on a flipping extravaganza tomorrow, there’s a few tricks of the trade to explore.

Nigella Lawson’s Instant Pancake Mix from Nigella Express (Chatto & Windus) appeals. She describes it as a ‘real lifesaver’. You measure and mix dry ingredients (flour, bicarb, baking powder, salt and sugar) and store in a jar. When you want to make pancakes, you add an egg and milk to a cup of mix and away you go.

One lovely Nigella twist is the use of vanilla-infused sugar. The idea of enhancing the batter with the creamy, woody spice is a comforting notion. So the outcome? The batter is viscous and – thanks to her use of all three raising agents (bicarb, baking powder and egg) – produces quaintly pock-marked, bubbly little numbers.

It’s a sweet army of edibles that are more on the American side than in the Anglo camp. They make me realise that, for Shrove Tuesday, I’m seeking the less glamorous flat British pancake, the one I have happy memories of tucking into as a child.

Jamie Oliver also offers a time-saver with his One-Cup Pancake recipe on http://www.jamieoliver.com. The idea is to use the same cup (or mug) to measure the flour and milk so you don’t need to drag out the scales. It’s another natty notion and the result is a another stack of fluffy, thick pancakes.

I’m already in a ‘which flour?’ quandary so it’s useful when Jamie advises: ‘If you use self-raising flour the pancakes will be more American in style, lovely and fluffy and thick. Plain flour will give you thinner ones, more like European crêpes.’ Plain it is then.

Rose Carrarini uses an interesting technique to make lemon pancakes in How To Boil An Egg (Phaidon). She uses stiffly beaten egg whites in place of baking powder, which she says can leave a ‘slightly metallic taste’.

Compared with the other recipes I’ve tested, this one is considerably lengthy to prepare. I mix egg yolks, butter, ricotta and sugar, before folding through flour, lemon zest and juice, followed by the egg white. The resulting little fluffy clouds couldn’t be lighter. The zest imparts freshness. I’m keeping it to enliven my finale.

I always thought crêpe and British pancake recipes differed subtly. But, on investigation, I find this is not generally so. Michel Roux Jr’s crêpe recipe from Desserts (Quadrille) is an exception. It includes something quite unexpected: double cream.

I give them a go but on flipping, I start to lose confidence. The nadir is when my fourth cake sticks feebly to the pan. I scrutinise his formula again and realise it’s 325ml milk, 100ml double cream and two eggs to just 125g flour. Nearly twice the amount of liquid to flour compared with the others – no wonder it’s so wet. However, it’s an epiphany when one finally works. It’s mottled, lacy-thin, freckled and adorable. I want this crispiness without the fuss of several attempts so I’ll covet the cream but reduce its quantity.

A final few notes. Some cooks use mineral water. I’m not convinced. Milk aids crispness and flavour. Cooking over a high heat is obligatory – it’s the secret to any perfect pock-marked pancake. Some of my masters swear by resting, some don’t. I find letting the batter sit a while allows the gluten and starch to relax, and results in a better texture.

Happy flipping, darlings.