Erica De Mane

Crepes and Salad, by Julie Galante.

Recipe below: Crespelle with Ricotta and Many Herbs

The quarantine has steered my dream time toward people from my culinary past. Maria Guarnaschelli, my first cookbook editor, who I haven’t heard from in years, recently made a grand appearance. I was always a little scared of her. She continues to scare me in my sleep.

After New York got locked down I moved upstate to ride it out, feeling a little guilty for leaving my city but also grateful to have an escape. Recently I had a nightmare set in our upstate house. I was messing around in the kitchen with an old fashioned hand-cranked meat grinder. I don’t actually own one, but I remember my grandmother using one. I was putting ricotta through it, and it was making a disgusting mess. As ricotta shot out over counter and floor, anxiety ground its way up my esophagus. A car appeared in the driveway. Maria Guarnaschelli and some guy with bleached blond hair got out.

“Finally, I’ve found out where you’re living,” she said, striding into the house as if she owned it. “You can’t get away from me. Do you have Sicilian wine?” Yes. “Can you get us some?” I asked her if she shouldn’t be wearing a mask. She blew that off. “Do you have any antipasti? Roasted peppers or something?” I didn’t. “What’s for dinner?” I said I was making manicotti with crespelle, and that was why there was ricotta all over the floor. “I hope you have enough for fifteen people. The office will be here any minute.” Now several more cars pulled up, and throngs of people came into the kitchen, none of them wearing masks and definitely not social-distancing. They drank wine and laughed like at a party.  “We’re not supposed to be doing this,” I said. “Oh lighten up,” Maria snapped. Now I was terrified. Not only could I get the virus from any one of these unruly city people, but also I didn’t have enough for them to eat. I went upstairs to ask my husband what to do. He said, “How do I know? They’re your friends.”

I woke up scared. Then I went ahead and made crespelle, just to put a cap on my dream. And I made a lot of it.

Crespelle with Ricotta and Many Herbs

(Serves 4 to 5, making about 12 7-inch crepes)

For the crespelle:

1¼ cups regular flour
4 large eggs
Salt
1 tablespoon sugar
3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for cooking
1 cup whole milk
1 tablespoon cognac or grappa

For the filling:

2 cups baby arugula
2 cups baby spinach (or a mix of spinach and Swiss Chard)
1 cup lightly chopped basil leaves, plus a little extra for the top
1 cup lightly chopped flat-leaf parsley leaves, plus a little extra for the top
The leaves from 5 large marjoram sprigs
The leaves from a few large thyme sprigs
32 ounces whole-milk ricotta
1 garlic clove, minced
Salt
Black pepper
A few big gratings of nutmeg
2 eggs
1 cup grated grana Padano cheese, plus another ½ cup to sprinkle on the top

For the tomato sauce:

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 large shallot, chopped
A splash of sweet vermouth
1 35-ounce can tomatoes, well chopped and lightly drained
A few big sprigs of marjoram, the leaves chopped
A few big sprigs of thyme, the leaves chopped
Salt
Black pepper

For the besciamella:

4 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 tablespoons regular flour
1 quart whole milk
Salt
1 fresh bay leaf
½ teaspoon nutmeg
A big pinch of Piment d’espelette

To make the crespelle batter, put all the crespelle ingredients into the bowl of a food processor, and pulse until smooth. The batter should have the consistency of thick cream. If it’s too thick, add a little more milk. Pour the batter into a bowl, and let it sit for about 30 minutes before you use it. That will allow the flour to absorb the liquid and let the gluten relax, so you get a nice tender crepe.

Now cook the crespelle: I used a 7-inch omelet pan, but if you’ve got a proper crêpe pan, a little bigger or smaller, choose that. Any small sauté pan will do. With these olive oil crespelle, I never find sticking a problem, so you don’t need a nonstick pan. Put the pan over a medium flame, and let it heat up. Pour in just enough olive oil to coat the pan. Pull the pan from the heat, and ladle in a bit less than a quarter cup of batter, tilting the pan quickly in a circular movement to spread the batter. (You’ll get the hang of it. The first few usually don’t come out too well. Once the heat is regulated and you get the feel of it, trust me, you’ll find it fairly easy.) Let the crespella cook just until you notice it coloring lightly at the edge. Then shake the pan, moving the crespella away from you, and slip a spatula underneath. Give it a fast, confident flip. If it folds up a bit, just straighten it out with your fingers (these things are a lot sturdier than you’d think). Cook on the other side for about 30 seconds,. Then slide it onto a big plate.

Make the rest of the crespelle the same way, adding a drizzle of olive oil to the pan when needed. Stack the crespelle up on top of one another (they won’t stick, I swear). If you like, you can refrigerate them until you want to assemble the dish.

To make the filling: Blanch all the greens and herbs in a pot of boiling water for about 2 minutes. Drain and run cold water over them to stop the cooking and bring up their green color. Squeeze out as much water as possible, and then give them a few good chops. Put the chopped greens in a bowl, and then add all the other ingredients for the filling, mixing well.

To make the sauce: Melt the butter in a sauté pan over medium heat. Add the shallot, and let it soften for about a minute.  Add the sweet vermouth, and let it bubble for 10 or 15 seconds. Add the tomatoes and the herbs, and season with salt and black pepper. Cook, uncovered, for about 5 minutes (not much longer, because you want the sauce to stay fresh tasting). Turn off the heat.

To make the besciamella: In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the flour, and whisk until it’s blended into the butter. Sauté for a minute or so, without letting it brown, to get rid of the raw taste. Add all the milk, and whisk well again to blend. Add all the spices and a decent amount of salt. Whisk a few more times, and then let the mix slowly heat, whisking frequently. Keep whisking while keeping it at a low bubble, until the sauce becomes thick and smooth, about another 4 minutes or so. That should do it. Cover the surface with plastic wrap, so it doesn’t form a skin.

Heat the oven to 425 degrees.

Get out a baking dish big enough to snuggly hold the soon-to-be-rolled crespelle.  Or use two dishes. I usually do that. Oil it or them lightly with olive oil.

Fill each crepe with an ample layer of the ricotta filling, and roll it up. Place them all in the baking dish(es). Cover them with the besciamella.

Dot the top with blobs of tomato sauce (see the photo below), scatter on the remaining basil and parsley, and top with grana Padano. Give everything a drizzle of fresh olive oil and a few grindings of fresh black pepper, and bake uncovered until hot, bubbling, and lightly browned at the edges, about 20 to 25 minutes.

Let the crespelle sit for about 10 minutes before you cut them. It’s traditional to cut them into squares, as you would lasagna, instead of serving each person 1 or 2 whole, long crespelle. It really does look lovely that way.

Crespelle ready for the oven.