The school year… It’s 10:30 p.m. and I’m making crepes for my daughter’s French class. “We can’t buy them, mom — they’re SUPPOSED to be homemade!” Well now the pressure is on.
I make great pancakes the old fashioned way — add some water to a bisquick container, shake, and pour.
Crepes are not as forgiving… they are actually pretty snobby. There is no margin for error in the viscosity (I like that word) of the batter. The heat must be just right. And the ladle must scoop the precise amount of batter for the size of the pan so that it covers the bottom of the pan thinly and evenly. This is a level of precision that tests a mom who had a big day at work followed by a mammogram (have you had yours this year?) and a child’s chorus performance.
Did I mention that I don’t own a crepe pan? Robert will say this must be the ONE kitchen tool not in my possession 🙂 So 3 pans and half a batch of batter later, I’ve finally got a crepe groove on. Let’s hope the ones we send in are as tasty as the broken crepes I had to eat tonight.
5 more days of school left… but who’s counting?
Bon nuit, mes amis!