Ladies and Gentlemen, today we have a double header at Wonders Never Cease!
Today's Co-Wonders of the World are...
(Drum roll please)
Crepes!!! (Yes, I know the first e should wear a circumflex/hat; just ignore it.)
Here they are, in all their finest!
Or maybe instead of "in all their finest," I should say, "in their comfiest Spiderman jammies" and "on a blue plate."
On the right, in all its tasty goodness, is a plate of crepes (these particular ones are raspberry,)
and on the left, in all his three- year- old sweetness, is my baby Sammy, better known as
Why such a long name for such a short person?
You are smart. You can probably figure that out. He got the name because when he was nearly three and started making crepes with his daddy, he made up the following song:
(Important: To get the real gist of this song, you must sing the hyphenated words really quickly together. And be sure to sing the entire ditty in a taunting voice.)
The One-Who-Helps-Dad-Make-The-Crepes gets the first crepe,
And the other ones don't
And it's too bad.
I'll tell more about Sam. But first, allow me to expound on crepes.
When we lived in France, we lived on crepes.
I am not exaggerating. (Well, maybe a teensy bit. But we did eat a lot of them!)
They are not just thin pancakes. They are a Wonder of the World.
For the uninitiated, let me tell you about them. Crepes are very, very thin pancakes, crispy on the edges and soft-ish in the middle.
At the risk of sounding like Forrest Gump, you can have sweet crepes or savory crepes (also called galettes.)
You can have...
crepes with ham
crepes with ham and cheese
crepes with spinach
crepes with crab
crepes with lemon and sugar
crepes with nutella and banana (my absolute favorite)
crepes with jam
I could go on and on...Instead I'll share a much, much abbreviated menu, (thanks to roboppy at flickr.)
We bought them in restaurants, on sidewalk stands, while traveling, and while at home in Clermont. (You can have them on a dish, you can have them made with fish...)
Here's a sidewalk stand, thanks to flickr.
Here's a little restaurant in Corsica, thanks to Todd.
I'm probably telling him to put the camera down and come eat his crepe.
And we made them at home.
Whoops! That's not us. That's the scene on the lid of a tin that I got for about a dollar at a junk store.
Anyhoo, soon after we discovered how much we loved crepes, a French friend showed us how to make them. Todd likes to experiment in the kitchen (he cooks things he finds interesting, like shark, crepes, collards, barbecue, and other assorted pork products--otherwise he's not so into it) so we found him a proper crepe pan, and he became our family crepe chef. As soon as Sam could stand in a chair without toppling off, he became his apprentice. Therefore we have this...
Just ignore my messy French kitchen. You're seeing every bit of my counter space so we couldn't exactly spread out. When they were cooking I tried not to interrupt.
They made crepes every Sunday morning. It was a lovely tradition.
After we moved home, we still wanted our crepes. Sam was bigger then, so he took over.
Here's a recipe he decided to write out two years ago, when he was six. It's a good one, so good in fact that my mom made a copy and framed it for our kitchen, along with a picture of the chef.
I love how he wrote spun for spoon. And ster it up, and ster agen.
It makes me want to squeeze him.
He does everything by himself now, except handle the hot crepe pan, though his dad has been working with him on that lately.
Here he was at six, with a masterpiece in hand.
He still looks the same, except he's taller and wears my shoe size.
Also he needs a haircut at the moment. (Like Samson, he fears haircuts will cause him to lose his powers-- of coolness, that is.)
So there you go! Two for the price of one!
Go make yourself a crepe, and have a Marvelous Monday!