Today I made crêpes for breakfast like I usually do…
And I tried some smooth peanut butter inside one of them. It doesn’t taste horrible, but after a bit of eating it, I felt like I was in the 3rd circle of hell.
I asked my mother and my grandma for an opinion, and they too agreed.
Why do Americans torture themselves like this?
The finest crêpe I ever ate was peanut butter, banana, and honey from a street vendor in Baden-Wurttemberg at 2am. There may have been ethanol on board, but I stand by the claim.