Today's lesson: Listen to your friends. Especially Rose-Anne, when she makes concerned faces while looking at a recipe.
What happened was this: A month or so ago, I went to a work potluck. One of the girls I work with, L2, is a notoriously innovative cook, with somewhat mixed but occasionally stunning results. (I hear that we don't even see half of what she makes, which I would almost believe.) For this potluck, she brought coconut crepes and a sweet tomato sauce. And boy, were they ever delicious! I was slightly smitten. So I bugged her for a few days to at least roughly tell me what she had done, and eventually she did and it sounded okay so I pulled a crepe recipe off the internet and without trying it printed it up for my cookbook.
Warning bells should be going off now. I a) took a recipe from a knowingly haphazard cook, b) modified it using an internet recipe, c) never made it myself, and d) put it in a goddamn cookbook. I'm smart sometimes like that. When I showed Rose-Anne my master copy on Saturday she made a dubious face as I explained what had happened, as I tried to explain how good and different and awesome this recipe was, or could be.
Today, after shipping out ten cookbooks, I came home and finally finally had time to make the recipe. It wasn't that bad, I suppose... I had to tweak the recipe (adding a cornstarch slurry to the sauce to thicken it and adding more coconut milk to the batter to thin it out) and it wasn't as good as I wanted it to be, but it also wasn't a total failure. However, it needs work. I'm going to give it a few more shots, modify the recipe so that it actually is what it could be, and send out revision sheets to everybody who already got a cookbook. So be warned: if you make the coconut crepes with sweet tomato sauce, it probably isn't going to be the best ever. Give me a few weeks, and I'll repent my sins and have you all over for brunch.