Crepes: Delicious Delightful Memories (final draft)

When food is brought up only one thought comes to mind: mm... delicious. However, in my book only one food completely clears all thoughts from my head: crepes. Once I hear the batter sizzling away in a pan, no other thought stands a chance. Crepes rank number one on my deliciousness scale. How could this delectable delight be anything other than special? When food is added to memories it becomes extraordinary. For four generations my family has been mixing crepes with memories. My great grandmother taught my grandma, who taught my dad, who in turn, taught my brother and myself.

I will always remember mornings with every family birthday, holiday, and special event waking up to the wonderful smells and sounds of my dad in the kitchen cooking my most favorite breakfast. I would run downstairs around the corner, plop onto my stool, and set my chin on the counter. Dad would always have three pans cooking with one with crepe in each. I would stare, mesmerized by the continuous flow of one pan after the other having batter poured then swirled around the bottom of the pan so expertly. I know three pans might seem too much when cooking what is basically a paper thin pancake, but not in my house. For my family of five a quadruple batch is absolutely required. And nothing less than pure maple syrup and blueberries to go with.

I hold the memory of my 16Th Christmas most dearly. I was finally going to make the crepes. All the years my dad the cook and me the bystander were over. He was going to let me step in and give it a shot. When I arrived in the kitchen that morning, all the ingredients were out and ready to go. Starting with the flour and ending with the milk, my dad explained just how much of each to put in the bowl. One to one to one- was the ratio we followed. One cup of flour to one egg to one tablespoon of oil. Once all the ingredients were stirred together, he carefully poured a small amount of batter onto the bottom of the pan and started to swirl it around till the batter was evenly distributed. Then he took a spatula and quickly went around the edges of the crepe flipping it perfectly without fail. My first attempt did not go so well. I got the batter evenly spread but when it came time to flip, I ripped the crepe right in half, and I was overcome with disappointment.

"It's alright. It takes practice."

Since then I have mastered the art and taken over this most special breakfast ritual. I enjoy the memories served with the crepes I make, whether I am enjoying those crepes with a side of memories alone on a Thursday or on Christmas with my family.