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deep fried stuffed crepes

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deep fried crepes

deep fried crepes

This is my ‘pick me up and turn me round’ type of food..

Deep fried stuffed crepes


 for the pancakes:

1 cup of milk

2-3 eggs

1 1/2 – 2 cups of flour

2-3 spoons of olive oil or melted butter

pinch of salt

1/2 cup of oil for frying

For the filling

 220grams quark or ricotta

2 mashed bananas

1/3 cup of honey

1 teaspoon of cinnamon

1/2 cup of raisins or any dry fruit (cranberries, chopped apricots,etc)

deep fried crepes

 1. Mix all the ingredients for pancakes. Leave it for 10 minutes. If it’s too thick after 10 minutes, add some water.

2. In the meantime warm up a non stick frying pan on the medium heat. When the pan is really hot, pour your mixture using a ladle and tilt the pan with a circular motion so that the batter coats the surface evenly.

3. Cook the crepes and flip when it starts to loosen. Use a spatula.

4. Cook on the other side for a minute, transfer it onto the plate.

5. Repeat till you use all the batter.

6. After you have all crepes prepared, mix all the ingredients for the filling.

7. Put about a tablespoon of the filling in the middle of the crepes, fold it like a tortilla, then fold it again to make them rectangular.

8. Heat oil in a pan. Wait until it’s really hot, fry your stuffed crepes on medium heat till they are crispy and golden brown on both sides.

9. Serve with a spoon of sour cream and sprinkled with icing sugar and cinnamon.

 Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb – born with a weak heart
(So I) guess I must be having fun …


About potatofaces

People who cook always go on about precious memories of childhood food one of their family members cooked, how daddy or nanny taught them the importance of cooking and eating together, and they still remember the comfort food they produced, amazing dishes whipped up by brilliant but humble cooks in their family. Well, let me tell you, it was totally different in my family. My mother’s family – totally useless as cooks, who could survive on bread and butter, cooked once a week a terrible, terrible meal, usually some kind of meat piece with lots of brown sauce. Also, they were never bothered about eating together. That’s maybe why most of them were depressed and suicidal. My mother followed that path and couldn’t really cook, and because I never wanted to eat meat, was warning me that ‘one day I will regret it’. Probably because my mother wasn’t into cooking my sister at the age of 12 took over and started producing amazing dinners and cakes. Well, luckily for me and her we weren’t that genetically doomed because apparently my father’s family were gifted in that compartment. I can only presume it was genes, as my father divorced my mother when my sis and me were little and he strongly believed that he also divorced us. So, we were growing up never having any contact with him and as a result, couldn’t learn how to cook from him. That’s why I believe the love of cooking ( and the ability) was just passed to us genetically. My father, short time before he died, unexpectedly felt an urge to contact us. First he gave my sister a mandolin (that’s another thing I know about him- he played a few instruments). My sister refused to talk to him, he then decided to contact me and wanted to spend some time with me. I didn’t want to, as he was a stranger to me (I was 11 or 12 at the time) but as I was promised I could leave whenever I wanted to, I went to the village he lived in. There I tried his mother’s cooking everyone was raving about. It was simple and amazing, I wish they were as family dedicated as they were at baking, cooking, making pastries, wine, tinctures, you name it. But I ate, drunk, and got bored of strangers who were my family and demanded to be let to go home. One of the last things my father said to me was that I should start learning English because I might need it one day, which I ignored for another 16 years… Because my sister was such a domestic goddess I wasn’t really bothered about cooking. I got hooked properly after my son was born and I wanted him to eat healthy and get everything he needed, especially that it wasn’t his choice to be a vegetarian (yet). And that is how the story begins…

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