The crepe crusader


The crepe crusader

Sails Cafe, Margaret River.

Don’t tell anyone but I’m thinking about ordering the crepe for breakfast. And yes, apparently they do make crepes for men now.

The crepe. It sounds like something with a frilly edge that you might place your cutlery on. Or maybe something crocheted to put on your toilet seat…

And here I am. Sitting here, looking at a menu and contemplating ordering it.

All my fave combos were there; nasi goreng, crab omelette, chorizo baked eggs… But I just keep looking back at the crepe. I realise a lot is at stake. I’m not just contemplating breakfast here. Now it’s personal. Sexual. I’m about to cast a deciding vote for the sexuality of the big bearded (yes I am both big and bearded… And quite tall too. Bahaha ha haha ha hmmmm) men every where. Can I do what I have to do? Am I strong enough? Yes! Well grease me up then woman, cause nothing goes faster then a greased big bearded man.

It’s done.

Like waiting for the results of a gonorrhea test, all I can do is bide my time. The outcome will soon be realised…

With fan fare not totally dissimilar to the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, the crepe arrives.

Man, if this crepe was thinner it would have won for sure. But instead it leaves me yearning, knowing the dizzying heights it could have achieved. Like the married woman waiting for an orgasm I am left with a not deeply satisfied feeling in my belly, lying in a wet patch… Maybe without the wet patch…

But why the hell am I so keen to see the crepe succeed? When did I decide to become a crepe crusader? Who fucking knows?

After further investigation I deem the sensible part of my brain was on its lunch break… Or morning tea, or afternoon tea, or maybe one of the 20 smoko breaks is has a day… Come to think of it, I reckon it’s on break more then it works. That’s it, I’m getting rid of it! So anyway it was on its break (now a permenant holiday) and it came back to discover that we had decided that we were now crusaders for the plight of the crepe.

I know. WTF?

Well it could certainly be worse…

Crepe (or pancake it seems) with ham and local cheddar and potato salad


2 responses to “The crepe crusader”

  1. I’m a huge crepe fan! But I’m an even bigger fan of it’s savoury counterpart….The Gallette. Try that filling inside a French Bretagne thin and crispy gallette and you’ve got yourself a sure fire winner! And I can completely empathise with those nerves one feels whilst waiting for their dish to arrive. Nothing worse than food envy, nothing better than an oral-gasm.

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