A few weeks ago my daughter announced that she missed eating crapes at our home. I have to admit, that is one mispronunciation where I inwardly cringe, however, she’s only 5 and calls cupcake, cupcape, which I think is adorable. Her paternal grandmother has a simple crêpe recipe that anyone can handle and go about their morning unfazed. The glitch being that I had never made them before, successfully. Upon hearing my little one’s wish, I was completely fazed, as I remembered my last attempts at making crêpes. It was not pretty, quite the mess actually, and I’m not just talking about the botched batch after batch of the seemingly innocent flat pancake. It was a skill I never honed as my ex typically whipped them up on…