Our first attempt for crêpes at home. Was it our finest work? Nope. Was it still a crêpe in France? You bet it was. For this one I went with potatoes, goat cheese, crème fraiche, and lardons, a cross between ham, bacon, and sweet heaven. This is a good lead-in to part one of what’ll likely be many posts on la cuisine française. This chapter: how silly an American can look without even trying. As a disclaimer, in my experience so far the cliché about rude judgemental frenchies has been almost non-existent. Charlotte’s family and friends have been extremely welcoming, particularly around the dinner table. As they should be, they’re damn proud of what their culture has pulled off in the food department for centuries, and you see that permeating into simple home meals every day
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