Monday, April 13, 2009


My junior year in college, seven of us shared a 7-bedroom house in Miami. I could tell you many stories about that place and its occupants, but that's for another time. What I will share is my French roommate's recipe for crepes. He and I had many odd conversations in the kitchen, trying to translate the metric system into our cup/tablespoon system (is there a name for that?). Stephane had an old cookbook, probably from generations back, of French culinary classics, but, alas, how to convert? He would approximate the metric amount with his hands or say "it's about the size of one egg," and I would guess how many cups, etc. it would be. Ah, the hilarity that insued. That was ancient time, before the internet, or at least before what we think of today, so there was no google to run to. Anyway, long story short, for my troubles, Stephane bestowed upon me his recipe for crepes. They are a staple in my home for breakfast or dessert. We rarely stray to savory crepes, though it would be easy to throw in cheese and ham and veggies instead of chocolate and fruit. I feel a little odd divulging this recipe, but it is so delightful, I think it should be shared. Enjoy.

Stephane's crepes

In a blender, add:

2 cups milk
2 cups white flour
2 to 3 eggs, depending on size
a small splash safflower (or similar) oil
a sprinkle salt

Blend until smooth and then add more milk until it is thin like melted ice cream. Put in the fridge for at least an hour. Batter lasts 3 or 4 days, though we hardly ever have any left after the second day.

Heat a shallow pan (I use my 10-inch All Clad; non-stick works well if you have it). When good and hot, rub bottom with butter and pour in enough batter to coat in a thin layer. Cook until not sticking and turn with a spatula or flip with the pan. Add chocolate chips and fruit or honey or sugar or butter or lemon, etc., in a stripe down the middle and fold in both sides so it is rolled up. Slide onto a plate and voila! Add more butter to the pan before each crepe.

Stephane wrote into the recipe that the first crepe is for the pan and is always bad. I have to say, I think I have overcome that curse and can get the first one to be pretty nice. The trick is a hot pan.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Oh yum. When I think of real French breakfast crepes, I always think of them filled with sucre roux (turbinado, I think it's called here: it's less processed, rough and slightly brown) and fresh lemon juice. Crunchy, tangy, sweet delight.