Before I begin, I have to confess that, being the puerile moron I am, the name for this thin pancake makes me snigger. However, thanks to the wonder of the written word – a way of getting my point across with more dignity than I could ever achieve verbally – I can tell you all about the culinary adventure I had for Crepe Day… pfffffft!

DOTY gives the following suggestion for this occasion: ‘we recommend the classic lemon-and-sugar approach, but why not go crazy and experiment?’ Really, is that your actual advice after the Marzipan Day debacle of only three weeks ago? Well that’s just irresponsible, you know how impressionable I am, and that is why my pan now has the texture of a basketball.

It had all started so well. The flour, eggs, milk, salt and butter had been mixed together (I’d even removed the eggshells) and the crepe was forming beautifully. It was only when I impatiently added the fillings to the pan that things went a bit wrong.

My reasoning was that the crepe would partly soak up the ingredients, creating a warm, sweet snack infused with flavour, but apparently ice cream and popping candy go a bit crazy when you whack them together above a furious flame. Who knew?

Needless to say, the area surrounding the pan is a state, whereas the pan itself is a write-off; plus I think I have a stray nugget of popping candy lodged in my forehead. But the crepe? Bloomin’ delicious! As with many things in this crazy universe, chaos and destruction resulted in order and beauty. Unfortunately that doesn’t apply to the crockery – it would appear that today has become a double occasion, with Crepe Day moving over for Scrape Day. Best find the marigolds and get scrubbing.

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