La Chandeleur part 2

La Chandeleur part 2

I am having a hard time here. I feel as if my sense of humor is a horse I have to get back on.

But. I have been thrown hard.

Still, I alternate between wanting to curl in a gray cave for a long, long time, like a very worn and weary bear, and going around every room I find myself in flinging all the curtains wide to let in as much light as possible.

So, in keeping with the later spirit, I continue La Chandeleur instructions. (See yesterday’s post for your different ways to win truffles with La Chandeleur. Really, I don’t know why I should have to offer truffles to get people to eat crêpes, but crêpes have a bad way of intimidating people. And it’s not even their fault.)

To celebrate La Chandeleur, you must:

1) Gather at least a few friends or family. At least one.

2) Procure a gold louis if you can. You probably can’t–we can only manage that when Jean-Charles is around–so use whatever coinly symbol of fortune you wish. Gold-covered chocolate pieces might not work, though, because you have to hold them in your hand while flipping crêpes.

3) Assemble crêpe ingredients (flour, milk, optional beer, butter), crêpe pan or 10-inch skillet, and crêpe toppings (this is really up to you, but Nutella is popular, as is butter and sugar–the more to try the more fun).

4) Get some French cider if you can, or at least some of the hard cider you can now find in stores. Pear cider is my favorite, but most people go with apple.

5) Make crêpes, flipping them–very important–with gold coin substitute in hand. Everyone present does this at least once to secure his or her fortunes for the year.

If you don’t want to flip a crêpe, you can also throw the first one on the armoire to keep for the next year, but frankly, flipping has less chance of attracting roaches. Personally, I have heard of the armoire thing a million times but never seen anyone actually practice it, and my guess is it’s just because the first crêpe never turns out right anyway, so it’s either the armoire or the dog. Or me. With enough chocolate I’ll eat it.

More instructions on how to actually make crêpes AND how to flip one with the maximum of embarrassing accidents tomorrow. Meanwhile, be preparing the true or imagined stories of your crêpe adventures OR spreading the word OR actually enjoying some crêpes yourselves, for truffle qualification.


Sébastien’s first crêpe at New Year’s Eve, the armoire one. We celebrated New Year’s in a house under construction which is GORGEOUS but didn’t even have countertops, but my brother David had connected the stove for the occasion.

Yes, this is Sébastien. Notice how I carefully cropped the part that would show his tush. I am doing that to torture you on purpose. I KNOW why everyone is emailing me asking me to post pictures of Sébastien.

  • amy

    I can’t wait for instructions. I am going to go look up crepe recipes–my food bible, Joy of Cooking, must have some–and procure my supplies tomorrow on our weekly trek to the Whole Foods in the Big City. I need sunlight. I need flipping, and gold coins, and Nutella. I need lengthening days. Thank you so much for spreading your crepe tradition. I will be linking to you shortly.

    And no, I don’t want truffles. I want everyone I know to feel better, though. Hugs to you.

    January 31, 2007 at 5:16 pm
  • Larry

    We all love you Laura. Lovely eulogy. It brings tears every time I read it.
    You can’t ever go wrong with crepes. Mom made a cherry/ crepe birthday cake for my 14th (?) birthday. Soooo good. The French can keep the snails though.

    January 31, 2007 at 5:28 pm
  • Hmm. Sébastien has lovely arms.

    I have made crepes once or twice. From packaged mixes.

    I never mastered the art of flipping. You can imagine what they looked like.

    Somewhere, I cannot recall where or when, I was entering a creperie when a passeby said to her companion, “Oh, creeps, I’ve never tried those.”

    Was she talking about me?

    January 31, 2007 at 7:21 pm
  • Kirin

    Laura merçi de ton invitation de participer � ta Chandeleur, je ne suis pas ‘bloggeuse’ donc pas de blog, est-ce-que je peux quand même participer? J’aimerais bien, et pour tes lecteurs je participerais en anglais. Nous faisions la Chandeleur chez nous dans la maison de mes parents quand j’étais petite il y a de ça beaucoups d’années 🙂 , malheureusement je me suis éloigner de cette belle fête en grandissent, mais je crois je vais cette année intoduire mon Irish husband et les enfants � ce petit rituel charmant, merçi de m’avoir renouvelé ce beau souvenir de ma jeunesse. Au plaisir……..

    February 1, 2007 at 12:42 am
  • Bien sûr que tu peux participer, Kirin! On ne se limite pas aux bloggeuses ici. Moi-même je suis devenue bloggeuse que très récemment.

    I cropped so much I even cut out his biceps, and STILL people are eyeing his forearms a bit too long if you ask me. That’s the problem with me writing this book. And “creeps” is possibly better than some of the jokes my brothers make when Sébastien talks about “crêpes” with that tight French e. Apparently, another word just leaps to certain types of minds.

    Speaking of brothers, I remember that crêpe/cherry concoction Mom made for your birthday, Larry. I could only have been about 3, but I remember it rising and rising in all its cherry and crêpe and cream glory. She must have spent hours on it.

    Thank you, Amy! But I shall enter you in the truffle contest nevertheless. People will be sure it’s rigged, though, if you win twice in two months.

    February 1, 2007 at 10:19 am
  • Crepes? I’m cajun . . . we just dirty up everything French, so I think I’ll have to sit this one out. Unless I can put crawfish in my crepes . . . mmmmm.

    Beautiful tribute to your father. I also lost my father quite suddenly when my daughter was only ten months old. She was the light of his life and allowed me to see a side of him that I’d never seen before. Also, in the months before he’d grown closer to my mother and I finally saw the two of them in love the way I’d imagined they were in the beginning. It feels so cruel, but the timing was part of a plan bigger than any of us. At least her had the time he did to make things right. It seems as if your father had a rich life. I hope you remain comforted by that.

    Chocolate makes the world a better place. 🙂

    February 1, 2007 at 10:54 am
  • Dirty Crêpes! Some world-famous chef should grab that idea and go invent a recipe to go with the title right this very second. AND, on the menu, they should put “In honor of Laura.” OK, maybe they should put “In honor of Michelle” but then I would be so jealous.

    I’m sorry to hear about your father, Michelle. But glad that he met your daughter and you all had that chance to grow closer. I AM comforted by thinking of my father’s life, but…we all miss him.

    February 1, 2007 at 12:07 pm