~ Our Sandwich~
Fond Remembrances
Diabolical Crepe Machine
Vicky West
In the summer of '77, The Corner House crepe machine - mentioned in an earlier post - was my nemesis. After my start as a dishwasher, Judy Coolidge asked me to expand my duties and come in early to make crepes. I was 18 at the time, and that felt exotic.
With my new responsibility, my start time moved to 7:30 am. Although my commute was from the nearby Holderness line, I often arrived late even after flying down Route 113. I slowed, however, when passing the elderly gentleman (Hal Richardson) who drove his Cub Cadet lawn mower into town. If I zipped past him, he'd greet me with an evil-eye 45 minutes later when he arrived at The Corner House for his morning coffee.
Shortly after 7:30 am, I'd duck into the kitchen hoping to slip in unnoticed. Judy always sat at the front of the kitchen at a window looking out to the main entry. Her back was to my side door entrance, but she always knew exactly what time it was and who was where.
After preparing the batter from a premixed powder base, I'd sit in front of the electric crepe machine which was about the size of a sewing machine. There was a stainless steel cylinder that automatically rotated with a slightly raised bit for the crepe. When everything went according to plan, in about 10 seconds, it would pick up the mixture, rotate, and deposit a perfectly cooked crepe. Voila.
For such a small and simple machine, it was astounding how many things could go wrong. If the batter wasn't mixed perfectly, the crepes would be too thin and burn. Or too thick and not fully cooked. Often the machine didn't pick up enough batter, and the finished crepe emerged shaped like Yard Island. After a while, the machine would get too hot and the crepe would start smoking. One morning Judy placed a fire extinguisher next to me.
Sometimes, for no explicable reason, the crepe wouldn't drop off the machine after it was done. I sported burnt fingertips that summer from frantically trying to peel the old crepe off before the machine started on the next one. Picture the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy works at the chocolate factory and can't keep up with the production line. That was me. Every morning that summer.
While the crepe machine was my nemesis, the camaraderie in the kitchen was delightful. Jan, Eileen, Nina, Judy and I chatted and cackled while we worked. With her back to the kitchen, Judy rarely contributed, but you'd see her shoulders go up and down as she quietly laughed along with the kitchen banter.
That summer I fell in love with this wonderful town's spirit. Looking forward to more fun times at The Corner House. Thanks to Sam and crew for keeping it going.
Apologies to the Francophiles for I don't know how to add circumflexes and accents....
With my new responsibility, my start time moved to 7:30 am. Although my commute was from the nearby Holderness line, I often arrived late even after flying down Route 113. I slowed, however, when passing the elderly gentleman (Hal Richardson) who drove his Cub Cadet lawn mower into town. If I zipped past him, he'd greet me with an evil-eye 45 minutes later when he arrived at The Corner House for his morning coffee.
Shortly after 7:30 am, I'd duck into the kitchen hoping to slip in unnoticed. Judy always sat at the front of the kitchen at a window looking out to the main entry. Her back was to my side door entrance, but she always knew exactly what time it was and who was where.
After preparing the batter from a premixed powder base, I'd sit in front of the electric crepe machine which was about the size of a sewing machine. There was a stainless steel cylinder that automatically rotated with a slightly raised bit for the crepe. When everything went according to plan, in about 10 seconds, it would pick up the mixture, rotate, and deposit a perfectly cooked crepe. Voila.
For such a small and simple machine, it was astounding how many things could go wrong. If the batter wasn't mixed perfectly, the crepes would be too thin and burn. Or too thick and not fully cooked. Often the machine didn't pick up enough batter, and the finished crepe emerged shaped like Yard Island. After a while, the machine would get too hot and the crepe would start smoking. One morning Judy placed a fire extinguisher next to me.
Sometimes, for no explicable reason, the crepe wouldn't drop off the machine after it was done. I sported burnt fingertips that summer from frantically trying to peel the old crepe off before the machine started on the next one. Picture the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy works at the chocolate factory and can't keep up with the production line. That was me. Every morning that summer.
While the crepe machine was my nemesis, the camaraderie in the kitchen was delightful. Jan, Eileen, Nina, Judy and I chatted and cackled while we worked. With her back to the kitchen, Judy rarely contributed, but you'd see her shoulders go up and down as she quietly laughed along with the kitchen banter.
That summer I fell in love with this wonderful town's spirit. Looking forward to more fun times at The Corner House. Thanks to Sam and crew for keeping it going.
Apologies to the Francophiles for I don't know how to add circumflexes and accents....