Have I told you about how I am the long-lost brother of Tupac Shakur?

So, school starts again on Monday. Oh, whine, whine, whine. Complain and then some more. I know. This has already happened for literally every other college student I’ve talked to. It’s part of being a student. You, you know, go to school. To boot, our breaks here are almost sickeningly long. All the same, I’m not ready for it. I finished last semester out by hyperventilating under a desk while eating pumpkin pie from a tin and guzzling coffee. Then I slept for about twenty-two hours. Break has been nice, I'll say: I’ve developed habits such as a dependence on regular sleep and biking. Plus, there’s so much I haven’t done yet. Especially, I haven’t gotten around to baking croissants. And this part, it’s significant, because my dedication to French pastry is serious business.
All the same, it’s kind of looking like it’s not going to happen. The next two days are rather packed, and I’m out of butter, and there are so many other things that the responsible part of me says I should probably do, such as... my laundry. And my readings for class on Monday.
Ah well. It’s a tough life I lead. I’m going to have to content myself with another French stand-by, the crêpe. It’s not quite as refined and nose-tappingly posh, but it’ll do in a pinch. Or in any situation in which you want delicious food, actually. I’ve been making crêpes all over the place lately.


We made them for a welcome-home brunch for James the other day, and I made them tonight for myself as dinner. They’re not exactly healthy dinner fare, but they’re just that deliciously quick. You make them in a blender, and they still look like something I bought from that crêpe-seller the last time I was in Paris (I say “that crêpe-seller” because he notoriously spent the better part of ten minutes explaining to me that he is, in fact, Tupac Shakur’s long-lost brother, separated at birth and turned into a white Frenchman. But that’s a story for another day). They’re kind of the opposite of croissants, actually.
The pictures portray them so well that around here we've been referring to them as "sex crêpes", and I've been teasing Emily about her first forays into food porn.


I myself am probably going to go make another batch, to freeze (crêpes freeze well, and when frozen on a cookie sheet, they're perfectly stackable). When I'm mid-March and exhausted with semiotics and linguistics, hopefully I'll pull out a crêpe and remember that there are breaks out there on the horizon.



Crêpes Fines (et peut-être Sucrées)
I stole this recipe ruthlessly from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume One, via Epicurious. I didn’t change a single thing. It’s amazing. I mentioned the blender, but this recipe can seriously do no wrong. It says in the original to let the batter sit for at least two hours to let the flour molecules expand. However, I just made some straight from blending to hot pan in about three minutes, with only an extra bit of milk to thin the batter, and they were possibly even better than previous batches. Seriously, this recipe could get away with murder. It’s stellar with the old stand-by, melted chocolate and raspberry jam, but (magic!) it’s possibly even better with just the slightest glaze of butter and a smattering of sugar. It’s custard-y and browned and eggy in a way I never even knew I craved. It’s like something a professional crêpe-man would make, but even better because you made it in your blender. I rest my case with the below recipe.

3/4 cup cold milk
3/4 cup cold water
3 egg yolks
1 Tablespoon granulated sugar
3 Tablespoons orange liqueur, rum, or brandy
1 cup flour (scooped and leveled)
5 Tablespoon melted butter
butter for the pan

Place all ingredients in blender, blend for one minute, checking to make sure there are no lumps left. [According to the recipe,] refrigerate for at least two hours.

Heat a frying pan or crêpe pan over medium-high heat. Gloss the pan with a little butter. Pour in approximately 1/4 cup of batter (more or less depending on the size of the pan). Quickly tilt the pan in all directions so as to coat the entire bottom of the pan with a thin layer of batter. Pour out any excess. This should all take only a few seconds. Cook the crêpe for 60-80 seconds, until the edges begin to brown, and the underside is lightly browned. Turn it over with a spatula. Cook until this second side is also browned, although there will only be spots of browning. This quasi-browned side is traditionally seen as the less attractive side, and put on the inside of the finished, filled crêpe.

The first crêpe is generally a throw-away (or rather, for eating with one's hands as the rest of the crêpes cook) to test conditions.

Fill crêpes and roll/fold them any way your heart desires.

Photo by the generous and ever-lovely Emily F. Samstag.