I've been sitting here tonight, having put the kids down after another wild day, just letting my mind drift. And, of course, because I'm me, it naturally drifts to food. Isn't it interesting just how closely linked are our memories and our senses of taste and smell? I don't even know what reminded me of it, but I started thinking about one of the very first things I ate when I arrived in Paris. I would be living there for the next year-and-a-half as a missionary for the LDS church, and so my companion, a tough cookie from Vermont named Marissa, showed me the ropes. On our way back from an appointment my feet were sore from the unexpected experience of learning how to walk on cobblestone streets in dress shoes; I was tired, and it started to rain. And the thick crepe was warm in my hand, the nutella inside slightly melted. It was amazing.
Marissa and I didn't get along at first. In fact, I distinctly remember several nights, and mornings (and afternoons for that matter) scribbling with a furious hand in my journal, sure that either she or I would not last the day. I think I made the first crack through her shell when I insisted that at the end of our long workdays I would love nothing more than to cook her dinner. She jumped right on that one- this was someone that, until my arrival, had dined on shredded carrot salad or perhaps a bowl of fromage blanc swirled with nutella at the end of a hard day. Living in Paris deserved much, much better in my opinion, and since one of the things I missed most, aside from my family, was being able to cook more often, this was pure joy for me.
I think I'd always believed that food could mend, and lift, and change people before this, but experiencing it was completely different. We ate a lot, and laughed a lot and our friendship became a very strong one. Some of my favorite memories are the ones the two of us made in our three months together, teaching and talking and eating. Food does incredible things.
With that, I'll pass on my recipe for French Crepes, although I don't know if any crepe can taste as good as one bought from a tiny stand in the rain, on a busy Paris street. The first is always the best!
Crepes
2 c. all-purpose flour
pinch sea salt
1 tsp. sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 c. milk, warmed slightly
1 Tbs. melted butter
butter or oil for pan
Sift the flour, salt, and sugar into a bowl and make a well in the center. Mix the eggs and milk together with 1/2 c. water and pour slowly into the well, whisking all the time to incorporate the flour until you have a smooth batter. Stir in the melted butter. Cover and let sit at room temperature for at least 30-45 minutes. If not using the batter for several hours, you may refrigerate it, but be sure to pull it out to come up to room temperature at least an hour or so before you cook them.
Heat a crepe pan with a little butter or oil on a paper towel. Pour in enough batter to coat the base of the pan in a thin, even layer, about 1/3-1/2 cup, depending on pan size. Cook over moderate heat for about one minute, until the crepe starts to come away from the edge of the pan. Turn the crepe (flip it if your brave or feeling 'chef-y') and cook on the other side another minute or until lightly golden. Place on a plate, sprinkle a bit of sugar on top before stacking another crepe. Repeat with remaining batter. Eat them spread with Nutella, lemon juice and sugar (my personal favorite), jam, applesauce, you name it.
Bon Appetit!
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