Creped out

by trishf

crepe

I love crepes.

I didn’t grow up eating crepes. Neither was it a staple in my culture, though my brother and I had our fair share of batter-induced pancakes and waffles when we were young, thanks to McDonald’s and A&W.

There’s something so deliciously alluring about a good crepe. Pillowy soft, springy, lacy thin with crisped ends, cooked to a perfect golden hue. Lightly dusted with sugar and a squeeze of citrusy lemon, I’m good to go. Though I err on the side of sugar, one of my favourite things about crepes is its versatility. Depending on what your tummy is in the mood for, it’s a blank canvas that can be dressed according to your craving du jour. Sweet, sour, savory or nothing at all – you name it.

For some reason, crepes in New York are obscenely overpriced. A Nutella & banana crepe (two staples just about anyone will have in their kitchen) sets you back by about $9. In the mood for something savoury? Be prepared to fork out at least $8 for Gruyère. Surely there are no special skills involved in making crepes either. With that in mind, I set forth to hunt down the perfect recipe to satisfy my crepe craving.

This recipe from Julia Child by way of Gratinee is a win-win on all levels. Three simple steps with five ΓΌber basic ingredients in any pantry – flour, milk, eggs, butter and salt (ok fine, make it 6 to include water, if you will). Because the recipe doesn’t call for sugar, it works as a good base for either sweet or savory crepes.

It was so utterly delicious that we made a dinner crepe that night with sausage, mushrooms and avocado, after a sweet crepe for breakfast in the morning.

My mind is whirling on a crepe party next!

Advertisements