When I received a crêpe pan and a tin of crêpe mix for my tenth birthday, my family swapped Saturday morning pancakes for a tradition of a lopsided pile of crêpes.
But over time, I realized that neither the specialized pan nor the mix were necessary—despite crêpes being one of the most intimidating foods to make at home, matched only by soufflés and emulsion sauces.
To prove it, here are my time-honed, uber-secret crêpe methods. I'll walk you through how to make crêpes and address (in italics) your most common concerns—because everyone deserves a weekly crêpe routine:
crêpes are made of the simplest ingredients around: eggs, milk, flour, salt, sugar, and maybe a little fat. (If you’re looking for recipes, here and here are good ones.) You can mix them by hand, or dump everything in a blender if you’re in a hurry.
The batter will be thin and might have a few lumps in it—this is totally fine, don’t worry about smoothing it out. Most batters can be stored in the fridge overnight, unless you use a recipe that includes leavening agents like baking powder.
You will need:
Assemble fillings before you start because they demand some attention. Minimalists maintain that a squeeze of lemon topped with a flurry of confectioners’ sugar is the perfect foil to the eggy pancake, but the options are many:
At the end of the day, the choice is yours—I love my crêpes with butter and a sprinkle of granulated sugar; something about the grit in my teeth when I bite down is very satisfying. And the more choices, the better (hello, crêpe bar).
If you made your batter the night before, take it out of the fridge and let it warm up to room temperature. Turn the heat on medium-high under your pan (don’t be afraid—high heat is good for crêpes).
Once the pan is nice and hot, apply a thin coat of butter over the surface. Dip your third-cup measure into the crêpe batter and pour it into the center of the pan, working quickly.
Set the cup on the plate next to the burner, pick up the pan and tip it all around to swirl the batter over the pan’s entire surface. You want to do this relatively quickly, before the batter has a chance to set, but not jerkily. Ideally, you will end up with an even coating of batter throughout the entire circle of the bottom of the pan—if some of it comes up the sides, this is fine, too.
“My crêpes always stick.” Make sure you only use nonstick skillets, grease it with plenty of butter, and keep the pan over medium-high heat the whole time. Before pouring on the batter, flick a little water onto the pan’s surface; if it sizzles aggressively, you’re good to go. If it just kind of bubbles, turn up the heat.
When the batter turns from glossy to matte yellow and the edges begin to brown and curl inwards, after a minute or so, it’s time to start testing your pancake. Shake the pan gently—the crêpe should move freely, without sticking to the bottom.
“Crêpes are so delicate, they break. No thank you.” First of all, crêpes are stronger than you think. If your crêpes are consistently turning out too thin and tearing, up your batter allotment from ⅓ cup to ½ cup. Secondly, even if the worst happens and your crêpes do tear (gasp!), you can fix them. Simply patch any cracks with a little extra pour of batter, then smooth it out with your spatula. Once the “bandage” has set, slide the crêpe out onto a plate. No one will ever know.
Flip the crêpe, either using a spatula or your pan skills. When your crêpe is set on top and moves freely when you gently shake the pan, nudge one of your spatulas under the edge of the pancake. Slide a second spatula, at a 45-degree angle from the first spatula, about halfway under the crêpe. Now that the crêpe is stabilized with both spatulas, gently flip it onto its belly.
“I really fear the flip.” That’s okay because the flip is totally unnecessary, sort of like tossing your pizza dough into the stratosphere to shape it. I, an experienced crêpe-maker, stick to the two-spatula method:
Don’t be afraid to get handsy with your pancakes, either! Use your fingers to straighten the flipped crêpe out in the pan, or add a little momentum to the turn. Just be careful not to touch the hot pan itself (obviously).
The second side should only take a few seconds to finish cooking. Slide the pancake out onto the waiting plate, straightening it if it wrinkles. Repeat with the rest of the batter.
Fill the crêpe with whatever filling(s) you decided on.
“Um, how do you fold a crêpe?” To fill the crêpes, I like to spread the filling down the middle and roll them up like a little tube, sort of like an enchilada. You can also channel Parisian street vendors and smear your filling on one half of the crêpe, fold the other half onto it like you’re making a quesadilla, and then fold the whole thing one more time. This is especially convenient if you’re eating crêpes on the go. Finally, if you are up for a project or need to seriously wow someone with pastry, stack your pancakes into a pastry cream/Nutella-fortified crêpe cake. Dust with confectioners’ sugar and serve in thin slices, laid sideways so people can admire your skills.
Simple, right? Too easy? Then make them into a cake.
“So I’m spending the whole brunch making crêpes?” If the hungry hoards are looking over your shoulder, breathing down your neck, or generally making you nervous, hand off the pan to your guests. Give everyone a chance to flip their own breakfast, guiding them along the crêpe-making process. If you are feeling relatively comfortable with crêpes and want to speed up the process, you can always get two pans going at once. Just stagger your start time for each, so while you’re swirling the batter in one, the other is cooking, etc.
Did I leave one of your crêpe conundrums unanswered? Ask in the comments!