Friday 25th February 2011
We are lucky enough to be able to go to France often. MW and I have tried to go at least once a year even before MS was born.
Primarily, we went for the food. There are so many things we look forward to almost as soon as we cross the border. Moules et frite, brie, beurre, pan au chocolat, pâté, Noël bière at Christmas, steak hashe, raw goats cheese, haricots verts and of course crêpes. My feeling is that there is nothing more French than crêpes. A bold statement I know but I stand by it.
During the winter season, and only the winter season, there is a woman who sets up shop in a little wooden shed on the sea front to make crêpes.
It’s a one woman outfit that is open between 4 & 6pm. A small window of opportunity for us late eaters.
She knows us now so we get served quickly. Our order seldom changes; nutella for me, sugar & lemon juice for MW & MS alternates between the two and on occasion, he has been known to have cherry jam.
Freshly made crêpes in hand, we head over to the steps on the sea front to eat.
It has become a ritual that never fails to bring us a lot of joy as a family. Just the 3 of us sitting on the steps eating beautiful French pancakes.