We finished packing everything today. An empty bedroom, and ten massive boxes that contain – what we consider as the most important things in – our life.
I have books, too many, and one entire boxeful of kitchen utensils. Wooden handles painted in pastel colours with chips that give away how old they actually are. The fifties, perhaps. A marble rolling pin. A croque-en-bouche cone that I will cherish for ever (merci Richard).
He has fly-tying material neatly packed in small containers. A treasure of some sorts. Feathers, and beads. Threads more colourful than rainbows, and hooks. His waders have been folded with the kind of impatience that only dissipates as the snow melts and the rivers grow strong.
And I think, by what we’ve been told, the snow-melt will be quite intense this year. And really, I cannot wait.
In a few weeks, I’ll see the land, that I’ve watched go by through a plane window during the summertime, white with ice.
In a few days, we’ll be in France. Sea and mountains. Walks through Nice markets. And road-trips to the gorges du Verdon. We have no plans. And perhaps, that is the best plan.
But I know for a fact that we will have crêpes. Because it’s an untold tradition.
In fact, last week, I had crêpes batter resting as a phone call to my mum turned into a monologue on how many padded jackets I must get to survive winter in the north. And it only stopped when she exclaimed she couldn’t speak anymore because my dad had dinner ready.
And really, she didn’t have to say more; I knew he’d made her crêpes. On a saturday night.
And really, we had too. The French know how to throw a good party.
Those crêpes are the get-real version of my beurre noisette crêpes. Just as wonderful, except I can turn them into a dinner: slices of ham, a generous handful of gruyère, and a fried egg; that combination will never ever get old.
Crêpes of the easy gluten-free everyday kind. Flours, a pinch of salt, a few eggs, milk and water just so, and melted butter. So easy I didn’t even think about posting the recipe here; but I wanted to have it somewhere. And remember the breakfast we had the day after. Crêpes and a sprinkle of sugar. Taking pictures in the middle of our room, surrounded by boxes waiting to be filled, and things chaotically organised on the floor.
Easy everyday gluten-free crêpes
Gluten-free or not, these crêpes can be made in seconds. You could even place all the ingredients in a blender and blitz until smooth. Or as I do: in a bowl with a handblender. For these, I used Dove’s Farm flours as it’s what I had in my cupboard, but feel free to replace with your own blend of gluten-free flours or even plain flour (you might need a little less liquid in that case).
If you’re using your own gluten-free flours, make sure they don’t have any xanthan gum as I find it doesn’t really work for crêpes.
For reference the flours I went for have: white rice, brown rice, potato, tapioca, corn, and buckwheat. But I have a feeling it would be quite delicious with oat flour too.
When it comes to fillings I’m partial to the complète: a slice of cooked ham, some grated gruyère cheese and a fried egg.
For breakfast, a dust of granulated sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice is a favourite, plain jam too really. I realise it must be some kind of reminiscence, but I can’t help to keep my crêpes simple.
What’s your favourite way to serve crêpes?
Easy everyday gluten-free crêpes
200g plain gluten-free flour
100g rice flour (a blend of white and brown)
a pinch of salt
75g melted butter
500g whole milk
Place all the ingredients, except for the water, in a large bowl and blitz using a handblender. Add the water. You might need more if you see your crêpes are too thick when you cook them. As a general rule, I’d recommend adding less and seeing how you go.
Leave the batter to sit at room temperature, covered with a clean kitchen cloth, for at least 30 minutes or, even better, for two hours or overnight (in which case, keep it in the fridge).
When you are ready to cook the crêpes, heat a lightly oiled non-stick frying pan over high heat, and mix the batter as it will separate slightly during the resting time.
When the pan starts to smoke, pour a laddle of batter onto the pan, using approximately one-third of a cup for each crêpe. Tilt the pan in a circular motion so that the batter coats the surface evenly.
Cook the crêpe for about 2 minutes, until the edges start to brown and curl slightly. Loosen with a palette knife, flip over and cook the other side for a minute. Serve hot.