Every time I am in France (which hasn’t been for a mindbogglingly long time, please feel free to send checks), I eat crêpes. French-style pancakes, lots of them. Sweet or savory, in restaurants as part of a 4 course pancake meal or furtively on street corners, crêpes are one of my many weaknesses. Sometimes I dream of crêpes, and for some reason I am always standing in a dark corner near Beaubourg, hurriedly swallowing great chunks of nutella-laden treat, while pigeons rustle and trash blows around my feet. 

Then at home, every 6 months or so, I get a random mental image of crêpes and start drooling uncontrollably. And the frying pan comes out… Ten minutes later I have before me a mixed plate of burnt and soggy pancake pieces. The poor results may be down to not having the correct equipment. But more likely it is just because I am such an awful, awful cook. 

Still, I never learn. Today, since we had time on our hands (no car line to sit in due to the T-Bot being - excuse me while I stifle a sarcastic grunt - sick) I roped the children into production. With great talk of pancakes! with maple syrup! and we’ll make home made lemonade! 

All I can say is, much fun was had by all. And… the lemonade was a success. 

P.S. See the picture? See that measuring cup? I really and truly bought that because I thought it would make me a good cook.