Despite their Mardi Gras associations, pancakes have never been terribly glamorous. For many, the unassuming marriage of flour, sugar and egg represents the epitome of cheap'n'cheerful eating; a drab, if undeniably delicious, concoction ranking several notches below a bacon and pudding fry-up in the gastronomic order of merit. Given its dowdy lineage, it might seem surprising then that the humble pancake has been hailed as an appetising vegetarian treat or touted as a provocative ethnic bedfellow of chicken balti or peking duck. Yet any vegetarian restaurant worthy of the name will today offer a variety of sweet and savoury pancakes and many mainstream eateries are following suit. The pancake - frequently rechristened the crepe to sidestep musty Shrove Tuesday connotations - is in danger of becoming trendy. One recent convert, Dublin's Juice bar (located on South Great George's Street) harkens back to the recipe's flamboyant origins in post-revolution Paris.
Juice owner Anthony Keane has perfected a colourful, fruit-filled variant which makes a cogent argument for its elevation to full fledged nouvelle cuisine status. But it is the savoury crepe, styled on US west coast Mexicano cooking and served with a range of spicy fillings, that has proved the real success. Although a comparatively recent innovation (Keane first dipped into pancakes only two months ago), chili and satay crepe-wraps count among Juice's biggest sellers.
"The lunchtime market has gone nuts for savoury pancakes. Our customers cannot get enough of them. People are getting tired of sandwiches and burgers - pancakes are a fast, filling alternative," Keane says.
He discovered the joy of Mexican crepes during a break in California. "Los Angeles would come to a halt if it didn't get its Mexicana. Crepes are almost a way of life over there. I was amazed with their appetite for pancakes - it opened my eyes to a entirely different culture of cooking.
"The exciting thing about the recipes is their simplicity; they can easily be repeated at home. There is nothing snooty or intimidating about our pancakes. To produce a delicious crepe all that is required is a desire to experiment and a little imagination. You don't have to be a whizz in the kitchen."
A few minutes away, the Lemon Crepe and Coffee Company on South William Street, presents an appealing contrast to Juice's prettified, looks-conscious fare. Lemon owner Adrian Reynolds emphasises fun and frolics; his recipes are loud, raucous and resolutely in your face. A heavy whiff of tradition hangs in the air - the house speciality, lemon crepes, pay homage to the old-fashioned pancake tuesday recipe. Reynolds's love affair with the genre stretches back to the early 1990s - he started out selling buttered crepes from a van on Dun Laoghaire pier. Like Keane at Juice, Reynolds stumbled upon the idea while on holiday. "I really discovered pancakes when I was in France about six years ago. I'm a fussy eater when I'm abroad - and these really appealed to me. So I reckoned that if I liked them, then so would Joe Public back home."
His restaurant boasts a comprehensive menu. Best-sellers include Belgian chocolate, Nutella and banana and maple flavour pancakes. Cheese and spinach savoury wraps are a hit with the lunchhour market.
"Pancakes are very quick to cook, serve and eat. People's time is limited. They don't want to spend it sitting around waiting to eat."
The venture has proved such a success that Reynolds is already laying plans for a follow-up - "I can't say where exactly it will be yet, but it is in a prominent tourist district of central Dublin," he says, stifling a smile.
But he may face stiffer competition in the future. Dublin's trend-sensitive restaurant industry is waking up to the allure of pancakes.
"I reckon I may have a harder time of it before long. A lot of people want to muscle in on the business - judging by the number I catch trying to take photographs of my menu when they think I'm not looking."
Juice, 9 Castle House, South Great George's Street, Dublin 2. Lemon Crepe and Coffee Company, 66 South William Street, Dublin 2.