Les crêpes

Pancakes have always been my favorite breakfast food.  There's just something so completely perfect about a round, baked bread drenched in sugar and coupled with a warm cup of coffee and a mimosa on a dimanche matin (dee-mahn-sh mah-tun: Sunday morning), and it seems every country agrees with me.  Americans have buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup, the English have thin pancakes topped with castor sugar and lemon juice, and in India there are dosas: thin, crispy, flaky pancakes served with chutneys and curry.  But no pancake seems to be more celebrated or as universally well-known as the French crêpe (kreh-p: pancake).

Crêpes originate from the north-western region of France known as Brittany, but crêpes have been around so long, are so delicious, and so simple to make that they're ubiquitous throughout the country.  Seat yourself at any crêperie (krehp-air-ee: pancake restaurant) in France and you'll be handed a menu with almost fifty options of crepes to choose from:  savory crêpes or sweet crêpes, buckwheat or white flour, simple toppings like cheese or sugar, or more complex toppings like bacon or fruit and alcohol.

My own personal French classic standard is crêpe à la Nutella (kreh-p ah lah new-tell-a: pancake topped with nutella).  Actually an Italian invention, Nutella is a hazelnut and choolate spread slightly melted and drizzled on the inside of the crêpe before the pancake is folded into quarters and shoved into my mouth just as fast as I can chew: messy, sweet, chocolaty and absolutely perfect on any day of the week. 

French cuisine (ki-zine: food) is infamous for being rich, indulgent, and almost impossible to master, but to me the crêpe is the more honest symbol of typical French fare: simple, delicious, drenched in butter and works well when eaten with just about anything.  The French are well-aware that they have a legacy of complex recipes and seven-course meals, but any true Frenchie I've met would much rather run out and grap a quick crêpe from the local café than spend hours sweating in the kitchen over a hot oven.  Of course, this is a well-kept secret so don't tell anyone I told you.  All French people I've met claim to be great cooks who also happen to know whether or not a bottle of wine is going to be good just by reading the label on the bottle...I pretend to believe them.