I’m not sure how you can have an authentic French crêpe when you’re over 300 miles from France, but apparently that’s what I had. I know it was authentic because the sign said it was. It was made by a French man, possibly to a French recipe. But is that enough?
This was an accidental cake eat. I was feeling peckish, saw a street vendor and thought ‘yes! I’ll have a pancake, which is also known as a crêpe in France.’ I used to walk past a van that sold crêpes in our previous home city. Every time I walked past I thought ‘One day I will order a pancake, also known as a crêpe in France, from this van.’ But sadly, I never did. Sorry for the depressing story.
Was it a cake? No. It was an Authentic French Crêpe. Served with lemon and sugar. The way us Brits like pancakes.
Taste: Crunchy around the edge, soft in the centre. Probably would have liked more sugar, and for the lemon to be more on the pancake than down my sleeve, but I’m just fussy.
Taste rating: 7/10. It probably would have tasted better if I’d had been in Nice on a hot summer’s day, rather than stood in a Northern alley in January.
Date eaten: Wednesday 25th January
Days since last cake: 6