5 years ago my then boyfriend, now husband made a very bold statement, "I make really good crepes." Later that year he made me dinner, Mandarin Chicken to be exact. It was the most vile meal I had ever attempted to eat. It grossed us both out, and we had to leave his apartment to get away from the smell that lingered in every molecule of everything in his apartment. From that point on he was banned from the kitchen, and he has never volunteered to make dinner again.
2 years ago we went to Paris and had some fantastic crepes.
2 weeks ago we went to London, and I have been craving strawberry crepes since we got back.
2 days ago I fearlessly requested that my husband make good on his promise 5 years ago. "Make me some really good crepes," I requested. "No problem," he smiled. He graciously gave up a half hour of playing video games to make me crepes. And he was right, he does make really good crepes. Being the good wife that I am, I grabbed my camera to document the success of his crepes. Behold:
Voila! My husband can make amazing crepes. I am a lucky girl. Tonight I'm making home made chili. This might just turn into a food blog if I'm not careful. But who would object to that? Please ignore the grossness of my stove. I'll get to cleaning that, eventually.