“Oh god,” I thought to myself as I stared, bleary-eyed, at the clock. “What have I done?”
It was 3 AM in the morning and I was alone in the kitchen, making my 24th crepe of 30.
To fully explain how I’d found myself chained to the stove, we’ll have to rewind a bit. In New York last year, I’d had a slice of cake unlike any other: delicate crepes alternating with layers of whisper-light mousse. I knew, sitting in that crowded Dean & Deluca, that I’d have to find a way to experience Lady M’s divine mille crepe again.
I didn’t, however, want the cake so badly that I was willing to stay up into the wee hours to recreate it… yet, here I was. At midnight, I figured that I might as well churn out a few crepes now and assemble the whole thing before my friend’s brunch the next day. How long could it take? Answer: A long, long time.
The crepes, despite being time-intensive, were easy enough to make. A handful of common ingredients, a large flat pan, and a good spatula (no need for those fancy crepe sticks if you don’t have ‘em) is all it takes. I also realized, after a good long while, that my range has not one but four burners. While I would’ve certainly burnt down the house with all of them going, my cooking time was significantly decreased once I started using two pans simultaneously.
Unfortunately, the easiest part of this cake was also the least delicious: the Nutella pastry cream. Were I to make this again, I’d omit the dairy entirely; it was cloyingly sweet, such that it rendered the taste of the crepes themselves indiscernible. I’d much rather assemble the cake with thin layers of Nutella spread between each layer. Save yourself the trouble! The cake is impressive enough as it is, with its dozens of gorgeous layers. Besides – why fix what’s not broken? Crepes and Nutella are perfect partners.
Recipe courtesy of Yossy Arefi at Food52
And, if you’re curious: here’s the pastry cream recipe, sans addition of a half-cup of Nutella!