The French, in their infinite wisdom, created the humble crepe. A lovely, light, flat, airy pancake. I am not a 'foodie' I do not watch 'Top Chef' or 'Reality Chef' or any other programme about food or it's preparation. If I'm hungry; I eat what's available, and move on.
For a short time; I lived with my biological father & step-mom, when I moved out they gave me a vacuum & a crepe maker. Very wise! The crepe maker wasn't anything fancy; it was slightly dome shaped and you made your batter, put it in the 'lid' portion that stayed on the counter, dipped the pan into it for a second, then flipped the pan over, waited for the light to go on and peel off your crepe. Voila! as the French say, a perfectly round, flat, thin as paper; crepe. Yum! I prefer to eat my crepes plain (that is opposed to having them stuffed with anything). Well, that gift was given to a little over 20 years ago now. I still have it; still use it.
Tonight, it decided it adored my crepe batter so much it wasn't going to let them go. NOT. EVEN. ONE.
Ever notice how you can have something for so long, it's never given you a lick of trouble (where does that phrase come from?) & the minute said item starts 'acting up' you don't calmly tell yourself "Oh my, I guess it's just time for the poor thing to die. I'll have to get a new one, it lasted soooo long." NO! You stand there sweating, angry, frustrated & thinking, what a "hunk a junk!' I can't believe this P.O.S. is doing this to me! curse.curse.curse.
Ugh... this day was frustrating enough, now, in the overbearing heat; I used my last three eggs (this means if it goes badly, I can't even have French toast) to create a little comfort food and alas, the crepe gods are laughing! son-of-a... Well, being the true red head I am, I was not ready to give up nor toss in my whatever-they-call-that-white-French-cooking-hat-thingy, so I took a deep cleansing breath, and thought. I'd seen others use a regular pan for this sort of thing but they usually had some sort of flat 'spreader' utensil to evenly spread the batter. Who cares! I'm an artist, 'Ces't la Vie'! So I took out my beautiful stainless steel Cuisinart pan. It has a wide flat bottom. It's so bottom heavy it almost feels like cast iron! That pan was a gift from my step-dad & his wife a couple years ago for Christmas when they secret-Santa'd me & El with a check that left both of us stunned & teary!
Back to cooking: I dabbed a tiny bit of butter on it & spooned some batter in and I waited.
No bubbling up, must mean I have to flip it on my own... *sigh* I took a deep breath, slid my long cake spatula underneath, all the way around, then lifted slightly & flipped! The top batter wasn't quite done so there were many splatters, but the bottom was a nice golden brown. Figuring I was on the right track, I made several more. When all done; put butter on them & the last of the maple syrup (I mean really, I wasn't going to have French toast if this didn't work so it didn't matter). I closed my eyes & tasted...
They tasted the same. The rich buttery goodness, sweet spongy consistency and slight tang on the finish (owing to the dash of lemon zest you put in). They were thicker, more like three or four pieces of paper as opposed to one, they weren't perfectly round at all, though some were quite artistic in their rendition of themselves I welcomed them all, in all their 'carnations'.
This is how I enjoy my crepes: butter & light maple syrup. If you like crepes stuffed with every manner of sea roach known to roam the bottom of the ocean, that's your business. I like 'em the way my other step-mom used to make 'em. French pancakes indeed. Strangely, I feel comforted. Now off for a walk. Because as the French also know; if you play... you'd better pay and NO calorie goes unpunished!