memories of france

So I’m late again. Here I am posting about pancakes a few weeks after Pancake Tuesday. A couple of weeks ago while looking for a recipe for sourdough pancakes, I came across this recipe from Nigel Slater on the guardian.co.uk. And it reminded me of lovely buckwheat crepes I’ve eaten in France. And while my resulting crepes were not as big as the ones typically served at Creperies in France, they taste very similar. Or at least, similar enough to have me flipping through our photo albums.

My husband and I spent our first honeymoon week in Provence, which is our/my most recent trip to France. We spent days travelling around, visiting markets and looking at some of the sights, roman ruins, Vincent Van Gogh’s hospital, old medieval towns. We were stopped on a country road by a flock of sheep, including one which got itself caught on our rental car’s (aka sewing machine) side mirror and bleated pathetically at my husband until it freed itself. We stopped at a small winery and bought a bottle of local wine and admired the collection of bidets posed behind a stone wall. We followed seemingly bizarre directions to get to places – “turn right at the Virgin Mary”, “go under the bell tower, turn right at Nostradamus, and look for the door in the castle wall” and “take the first road off the roundabout with the melon statue” which lead to a charming B&B, a lovely restaurant and the road to Loursmarin, with a castle and a market to visit. And we had some wonderful meals. One was at a small café in a square off the Vieux Quai in Marseilles where they served crepes. The menu read something like

Crepe avec jambon
Crepe avec jambon, fromage
Crepe avec jambon, fromage, oeuf
Crepe avec jambon, fromage, béchamel
Crepe avec jambon, fromage, oeuf, béchamel

I chose the crepe avec jambon, fromage, béchamel which is a favourite of mine. Perfect with a glass of cider at an outdoor café on holiday. And good for a weekday dinner when spring seems like it is taking too long to get here.

Buckwheat Crepes (from Nigel Slater at www.guardian.co.uk)
1 ¼ c buckwheat flour
½ c flour
2 eggs
2 ½ c milk
½ tsp salt
2 tbsp melted butter
cooked ham slices
2 c grated gruyère cheese

Whisk together the flours, eggs, milk, and salt. Put the batter in the fridge for 2 hours or overnight. Heat a pan over a medium heat. Melt a bit of butter in the pan, spreading it over the bottom and ladle some batter into the pan to form a thin crepe. Cook until the edges crisp and then flip and cook the other side. Set aside. Repeat until the crepes are all made.

To fill the crepes lay each one top-side down, place a slice of ham on top, sprinkle with cheese, and fold in half and half again. Put the crepes on a baking sheet and pop into a in a preheated 400 deg F oven until crisp.

I served mine with bechamel over the crepes. And I know that usually, in France, the bechamel is smeared over the inside of the crepe, and then the ham and cheese are folded inside the crepe.

Bechamel
2 tbsp butter
2 tbsp flour
1 ½ c milk

Whisk together the butter, flour and milk over medium heat. Once the mixture is smooth and bubbling, turn down the heat to medium low and cook for 5 minutes. Add a handful of cheese if desired, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Pour over crepes. (And an apology for the pictures, I find it hard to take a good picture of a brown crepe.)

now we are six

Our boy is six today. He isn't very excited as he only spent about 30 minutes yesterday bouncing on his bed, yelling, tomorrow is my birthday, tomorrow is my birthday. And it snowed overnight so he is just in heaven. All week there has been snow in the forecast and we (thankfully from my perspective) have only had the merest dusting but for a boy who longs to be able to clear the driveway of snow with his trucks, it has been very disappointing. So today, at kid's club, he'll get to play in snow and play hockey with his pals until the rain kicks in later on today. And there will be chocolate cupcakes for supper. And his party tomorrow.

It's hard to believe that six years ago right now, I was in labour and starting to wonder if this boy would ever be born. I'd been induced on the Wednesday evening and as the contractions that started were only baby ones, they sent me home to sleep. I returned the next morning and was hooked up to a pitocin drop to try and move things along. Things didn't progress so I had another round of induction medication and more pitocin and laboured along all afternoon and evening with no progress. Around 11 pm they sent my husband and support friend home. I woke up in heavy labour around 5 am and paced the hallways of the labour and delivery ward until my husband arrived after 8, after which I either paced the hallways or perched on a birthing ball in the hallway outside my cubicle in the antenatal area. As I never progressed to 4cm dilated, I was never moved inside Labour and Delivery. My little cubby was so small, when my husband sat in the visitor's chair his knees threatened to take out the side of the bed. And a birthing ball definitely wasn't going to fit in that space so we parked it at the end of the bed, in the hallway and I perched on it while my husband and friend E took turns massaging my back. Periodically I would have to move to the bed so the fetal monitors could be read (he's doing fabulously well) but my back labour rarely registered on the contraction monitor which was pissing me off and I found lying down agony. At 10:30AM the OB came and checked my progress and we talked about options. I was in increasing distress, and making no progress. I could either have one more round of induction meds or proceed to the OR for a c-section. I went with the OR option and I'm glad I did. While I was being prepped, my blood pressure spiked and I needed a quick dose of hypertension meds and my bronchitis kicked in causing me to cough and cough so I was put on an inhaler as well. Then I was moved to the OR, given an epidural (oh the relief) and then draped. A few tugs later and there was our boy - with a chin just like his dad's. The OB told me later that our boy was so comfy inside me, that she really had to tug to get him out! He and I were moved to recovery where he told me all about his journey - he "talked" non-stop the whole time I was in recovery "ack, ack, ack...ack, ack". My nurse was laughing, saying "wow, you've got a talker there!"

And now he is six! Our funny, smart, social, lego loving, truck loving boy. He's the best thing I've ever done and I can't imagine my life without him. I look at him now and he seems so grown up. He's lean and lanky like his dad (my husband's mini me) and there are no signs of the baby he was except when he is sleeping. Happy Birthday, my dear boy!