My husband and I have talked about getting crepes together in Paris since before we were even dating. He would fly from Africa and I from North Carolina to meet halfway for that one day and eat crepes together. I was going to get a savory crepe with egg, prosciutto and gouda cheese and he a sweet crepe with Nutella and strawberries. Then we would walk slowly along the streets of Paris, crepes in hand, and talk about life— wishing that one day to never end.
This was back when the idea of we was just a dream.
I never imagined that scene really taking place, mostly because I never imagined us taking the leap of faith to fly to Paris and meet up for only one day. Our friendship was so fragile at points. But there was a deeper, more elusive dream than Paris and crepes; I never imagined us taking the leap of faith into marriage like we did. Instead of taking the risk on Paris, we took the risk on marriage— we met halfway at the altar.
I am now walking around with a baby bump. Just last month my husband, Greg, and I took a babymoon trip to Paris with crepes on our mind because somehow we needed to honor the idea that had fueled us for those months of friendship, dating and engagement. We took a trip dreamed up out of one elusive idea that we would meet halfway for crepes.
And we could not have manufactured our wildest crepe dreams more perfectly. Late one night, as we wondered through the Latin quarter, we stumbled upon an old Greek man and his run-down crepe stand. There were a few locals standing in line for a late night snack and we joined the line even though I still felt full from my dinner of double burgers.
When it was our turn I ordered a lemon, butter and sugar crepe, not a savory. And my husband ordered a cinnamon and sugar crepe. The old man let us try our hand at making the crepes ourselves. He had a wooden tool that that he used to spread the batter around the circular griddle and I leaned into the crepe magic. He did more than make crepes for us; he made us laugh without speaking a word of English while he poured cinnamon and sugar and butter all over Greg’s crepes. When we left his stand he said in he would come find us one day in Africa. We took our crepes and ate them while sitting on a curb in the middle of a bustling square; some talking of life and some silence in awe of how God had brought us this far— crepes in hand.
Due to my nostalgia of crepes and all they represent in our marriage, I have tried a number of times to make them in my own home on special occasions or on a quiet Saturday morning. My husband is sweet and says they are great, but they are usually too thick or I can't get them unstuck from the pan and we end up eating doughy scraps dipped in Nutella.
After Paris, I determined to try my hand at crepes once again. Maybe I had carried the crepe magic back with me. A friend here in Ethiopia had given me an easy recipe that I fumbled through my notes to find. This simple recipe and some technical tips—plus magic—from the old man in Paris left me with perfect medium size crepes in my kitchen this last Saturday morning.
I want to share the crepe magic with you and your home. Here's the recipe and little tricks that finally worked for me (enough for about 6-8 medium size crepes):
1 cup of milk
1 cup of flour
1 large egg
A pinch of salt
A pinch of sugar
I blend all these ingredients in a Magic Bullet but you can also use a mixer. Put a medium non-stick pan over high heat until very hot. You can check the temperature by dropping a dot of batter on the pan to see if it sizzles. Once the pan is sizzling, wipe the pan down with a paper towel that has oil or butter on it. BUT you don’t want excess butter or oil in pan.
Pour 1/4 cup to a 1/3 cup of batter onto the hot pan in small spirals. Pick the up handle of the pan and with your wrist rotate the pan, spreading the batter in a circular motion connecting the blank spaces of the spiral and filling out the rest of the pan. Wait for the crepe to cook through (1-2 minutes). When it is done you should be able to slide the crepe right off the pan onto a plate. Repeat process after cleaning pan with an oily paper towel.
That’s what worked my kitchen and I hope it works for you! Check out the video below.