Strawberry Mascarpone Crepes

Harper turned nine. January 14, 2032. Fourth grader. Reading at — I've stopped tracking, but her teacher says "high school level" — the level where books become ideas and ideas become opinions and opinions become the weapons-grade argumentative power of a nine-year-old who has read more than most adults and knows it. She debates everything: dinner ("Why can't we have Thai food?" "Because I don't know how to cook Thai food." "You could learn." "Eat your spaghetti."), bedtime ("Studies show that children who read before bed sleep better." "Studies also show that children who argue with their mothers sleep in the car."), and the relative merits of every recipe I've ever made ("Mama, your chicken pot pie has a soggy bottom." "Your bottom is going to be soggy if you keep critiquing my food." "That doesn't even make sense." "Eat your pot pie.").

She is the most exhausting, brilliant, challenging, wonderful child I have ever known. She is exactly who she was meant to be: a girl with a book in one hand and a spatula in the other, asking "why" until the world runs out of answers, and then asking one more time. She is me, intensified. She is Mama, distilled. She is the Moreland women, concentrated to lethal potency and aimed at the future.

Strawberry cake, ninth year. She made it alone. Completely alone. I was not in the kitchen. I was instructed to "stay out" (direct quote). She emerged two hours later with a three-layer strawberry cake with Italian meringue buttercream (she learned this from YouTube — the child is self-taught in pastry arts via internet) and it was, objectively, the best cake anyone in this family has ever made, and I include myself in that assessment, and the including hurts a little and makes me proud a lot.

Harper’s YouTube-tutored, completely unsupervised strawberry masterpiece left me standing in the kitchen doorway with a fork in my hand and my pride in a complicated place — she’d claimed strawberries as her territory, and I had to respect it. But strawberries are big enough to share, and when I want to bring that same bright, celebratory flavor to the table without being outshone by a nine-year-old (again), I turn to these strawberry mascarpone crepes: a little Italian elegance, a lot of fresh berry joy, and — crucially — a recipe I get to make myself, in my own kitchen, without being told to leave.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 8 crepes

Ingredients

For the crepes:
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 large eggs
1 cup whole milk
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus more for the pan
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
For the mascarpone filling:
8 oz mascarpone cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
3 tablespoons powdered sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
For the strawberry topping:
2 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
Powdered sugar, for dusting

Instructions

Make the crepe batter. In a blender, combine the flour, eggs, milk, water, melted butter, sugar, vanilla, and salt. Blend on medium speed for 30 seconds until completely smooth. Transfer to a bowl, cover, and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes (or up to 1 hour) to let the batter rest — this prevents tough crepes.
Macerate the strawberries. While the batter rests, combine the sliced strawberries, granulated sugar, and lemon juice in a bowl. Stir gently and set aside for at least 15 minutes. The sugar will draw out the juices and create a light, glossy syrup.
Make the mascarpone filling. Using a hand mixer or stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the heavy cream on medium-high until soft peaks form. In a separate bowl, beat the mascarpone with the powdered sugar and vanilla until smooth and fluffy. Gently fold the whipped cream into the mascarpone until just combined. Refrigerate until ready to use.
Cook the crepes. Heat a 10-inch non-stick skillet or crepe pan over medium heat. Brush lightly with melted butter. Pour 1/4 cup of batter into the center of the pan and immediately swirl to coat the bottom in a thin, even layer. Cook for 1 to 2 minutes until the edges look dry and the underside is lightly golden. Flip and cook for another 30 seconds. Transfer to a plate and repeat with remaining batter, stacking crepes with a sheet of parchment between each one.
Fill and fold. Lay a crepe flat on a work surface. Spread 2 to 3 tablespoons of mascarpone filling over one half of the crepe. Fold in half, then fold again into a triangle. Repeat with remaining crepes and filling.
Serve. Arrange 2 filled crepes per plate. Spoon the macerated strawberries and their syrup generously over the top. Dust with powdered sugar and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Strawberry Mascarpone Crepes — When Your Daughter Out-Bakes You and You Couldn’t Be More Proud