When there are chickens around, eggs happen. And when eggs are happening, eating them needs to happen regularly, too, otherwise they stockpile in the ‘fridge. And then before you know it, you have more eggs than you know what to do with. This happened today.

Lucky for us the French invented crépes! Thin, slightly sweet, egg-loaded pancakes that can be topped with unending combination of delicious things: bananas and Greek yogurt, strawberries and whipped cream, peaches and cinnamon, maple syrup and peanut butter…

But we’re trying to use as many eggs as possible today, so we’re topping our crépes with slices of prosciutto, eggs, parmesan cheese, a sprinkle of sea salt, crushed pepper, and fresh thyme.

Ingredients

For the crépes:

1 cup flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups milk
4 large eggs
3 tablespoons melted butter

For the topping:

9 thin slices ham/prosciutto
9 eggs
Chopped fresh parsley or thyme to taste
Sea salt & pepper to taste
Freshly grated parmesan cheese to tatse

Steps

Combine flour, sugar, salt, milk, four eggs and the melted butter in a blender and blend on high for 30 seconds. Let rest for 15 minutes.

Heat a 12 inch non-stick skillet over medium heat and lightly coat with butter. Add 1/3 cup batter and swirl to completely cover skillet. Cook until underside of crepe is very lightly starting to brown, about 2 minutes.

Loosen edge of crepe with spatula and then either using large spatula or your fingers, lift it up and flip it over.

Cook another minute and then slide out of skillet onto wax paper. Repeat until batter is gone {it should make about nine}.

Preheat oven to 350. Place crepes on a rimmed baking sheet {3-4 per sheet}. Place prosciutto slice in center of crepe and carefully crack egg onto prosciutto.

Fold edges of crepe toward center, using the egg white as the glue to hold the edges down.

Season with salt and pepper and bake until egg white is set, about 10-12 minutes. Sprinkle with herbs and cheese and serve.

This post is dedicated to my friend Caitlyn, who went through a crépe faze when we were about ten years old. I would show up at her house and she would be in her usual position in front of the stove, spatula in hand, huge bowl of batter by her side. She’s the only ten-year-old I’ve ever known that asked for a crépe pan for Christmas.

“Want one?” She’d ask, and she knew the answer, so there would be a steaming, golden, buttery crépe sliding onto a plate in front of me before I could say anything.

We ate them with massive amounts of whipped cream.