The Berlusconi effect and Italian Women. Ladies, get your act together.

Before we get into this post, let me state a few ground rules. I am not a feminist. I grew up in a home with a father who worked and a mother who stayed at home early in my childhood. All the traditional fixings of an Italian father, and an American mother. But that all changed when my father decided to go into business himself. He looked to his wife, his partner, as his right hand person to make their business successful. And it was. Together my Italian father and American mother made an amazing family, a thriving business, and a happy fruitful life. That was the “traditional” Italian non-feminist upbringing I had growing up. My father cooked, and taught my mother how. They worked together to build a life, raise a family, and make decisions. But apparently this experience is in stark contrast to the typical experience young women in Italy have today. I understood this as part of what is “traditional” within the old country and things evolving slowly. But it became much more clear to me, after hearing a troubling story on the radio this weekend.

Throughout my life, I’ve been surrounded by successful women who have juggled both their families and a career. My mother is an incredibly smart businesswoman who was a trendsetter and newsmaker as a small business owner. My Aunt was one of the first women on the west coast to own a restaurant chain. My Grandmother was one of the most respected women in her community, honored for her service to the Catholic community as well as her service to the clergy who served that faith. Being a woman in my experience has never been a deterrent, but instead a badge of honor. I continue to realize that honor as recently as last week when Rational, the company I founded, made the list of top 50 woman owned businesses in Washington State.

But back to the radio show. As I listened to the interview, with three Italian/American women who are struggling to establish businesses in Italy, I was shocked at what I was hearing. A few astonishing facts that blew me away:

1. Only 10% of the Italian population graduates from college. And of this very small percent, women are a fraction.
2. Women are asked to submit their picture and “Personalità” profile with their college application to ensure their “bella presenza” or beautiful presence.
3. The top TV shows in Italy today are beauty pageant focused reality shows developed to showcase only the physically beautiful girls. Mothers across the country are on a mission to have their daughters “featured” on these shows.
4. If daughters want to go to college or work, it is seen as a failure and black mark on a father’s life to have not provided a situation for his daughter to not to have to go to school or work.
5. The merits of a woman’s contribution to her family, her society, is still seen in terms of what she contributes to her household and her husband rather than what she contributes to society overall.
6. Italy ranks 74th, below Malta and Greece, on gender equality, dragged down by its low score for women’s economic participation and opportunity, according to the World Economic Forum’s 2011 Global Gender Gap Report.
7. Roughly one in three mothers in Italy leave work to look after their families, according to a study by statistics office ISTAT. The maternal employment rate falls as children get older, while in other European countries mothers’ working rates recover as children grow up. Traditional views about the division of domestic duties all contribute to the trend.

Protest, Berlusconi, Italian Women

In February of 2011, Italian women took to the streets in protest of the Prime Minister

Italy, at least in my opinion, is one of the most advanced and progressive countries in the world. How is it that this country that I love so much is so far behind modern society where women’s basic contribution and rights are concerned? Many are calling it the Berlusconi effect. His influence was definitely a cultural barrier and deterrent to women’s progress between 1994 and 2011, the years he was in office. With allegations including sexual scandal, manipulation of the media, mafia ties, offensive jokes and comments about women and religion, he was hardly a leader working towards equality on any front.

Italian women have all the gifts, the passion, the smarts to really make a difference in their own society and the world. While I certainly don’t have all the answers, I will spend much more time researching, studying, and learning more about who is trying to change this trend. There are some brave women trying to influence the culture in the direction of supporting women as equal partners. And with Berlusconi now out, and Letta now in, perhaps new leadership will bring change. The world will be a better place when we can achieve this equality. The gap is closing in countries like the Unites States, but apparently is wide and far in the sweet spot in my heart, Italy. There is a lot, for me personally, to consider. Particularly as I watch, nurture and encourage my own daughter as she begins to make decisions about high school, college and choices that will chart her life course. Thankfully she lives within an environment and a country where she will be able to make those decisions based on the merit of her efforts rather than how she looks, or her gender.

This week’s obsession, Sicily

In my family, Sicily has always been one of those romantic places I never knew much about. Sure I’ve always wanted to visit, but with so many other wonderful places within the main “boot” I’ve just never thought about prioritizing a visit “way” down there. That is until this week. It seems, only through coincidence, that several friends have recently visited and have come home raving about unmatched beauty, the best food they have ever eaten and people that are warmer than the average Italian native. With all the recent discussion surrounding the topic, Sicily was definitely worth researching.


So I began with my most reliable source, Uncle Joey. Over lunch I brought up the topic and his eyes immediately lit up with a sparkle I had not seen in awhile. “Oh honey, it’s the MOST wonderful place I’ve EVER been to!” I was surprised by this immediate enthusiasm. Uncle Joey has been to a lot of places. His heartfelt reflection alone seemed worthy of a trip. He went onto describe what was, at least in his memory, the best trip he had ever taken. The views were so picturesque, and water a color so blue, it was almost magical. He described the freshest fish and meat he had ever eaten, normally accompanied with an innately Sicilian dish called caponata. I had heard of this dish, but had never made it. We discussed the ingredients, what he remembered about the flavor, and I was sent off from our lunch with a task. Make the caponata. If not to try something new, to perhaps bring back the flavor of Sicily that he so enjoyed.

Sicilian Caponata

After researching several recipes, and an intense debate about with raisins or without, eggplant with skins or without, we settled on what seemed to be the closest match to what he remembered. No raisins, and half of the eggplant would remain with skins. We went about chopping eggplant, olives, capers, and carefully salting the eggplant to remove all extra water. We sautéed layer upon layer until all ingredients happily settled into a low simmer. It’s a simple process that takes only a bit of patience. The finished product is one of the most versatile jars of yumminess that I have ever tasted. It’s delicious on crackers, with meat, on a salad or as a pasta sauce. While I’m sure this version is not nearly as delicious as what Uncle Joey had in Sicily, it sure was fun making it and dreaming, if even for a bit, that we might venture there some day soon.

Sicilian Eggplant Caponata

The finished product

Thoughts on Service

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about the service industry. Having grown up in it, my parents owned a grocery store for 30+ years, and having spent my career in it, it’s not a foreign concept to me. Still, I am often surprised (even today) when I have an amazing experience at one of my favorite restaurants, salon’s, coffee shops etc. On the flip side, I am actually still (even today) surprised when things go sideways and I’m left with disappointment after what would otherwise be a perfect experience – aside from the service.

In my family, we often frequent our favorite restaurants and find ourselves looking forward to seeing the servers there. They are our friends, our extended family, and really what makes our experience special. Whether it’s Shawna or Meg at Spinasse, Seth at How to Cook a Wolf or Matthew at Canlis.

Spinasse restaurant, great service and amazing food in Seattle

Each of these individuals has made our experience so special, that we remember them. And they remember us. They welcome us with warm enthusiasm and open arms every time we arrive at their establishment. They make us feel special. They get to know us, and they anticipate what we need. Most importantly, we trust them. We trust them with our time, our dollars and our experience. With this crowd, we just say, “bring us what you think we will love.” And they always do. That is the key in the service business. This trust that is established – over time – as clients and servers get to know each other is a magical balance of understanding where each other is coming from, and trusting one another to deliver. It is what makes restaurants, coffee shops, salons, stores, and agencies – great. It is what differentiates the great from the good.

Which gets me thinking about my business, Rational. Rational at its core is a service-based business. In our four-year history we have had the good fortune of working with some of the most wonderful clients, friends and colleagues in the business today. Our goal is to make sure they feel the same when working with Rational, as I feel when dining at Spinasse. They should feel taken care of, that their needs are anticipated and met before they ask, and they should trust that what we deliver not only meets their needs, but also exceeds them. They should feel like a member of our family, because they are. We would not be here without them! We must never lose sight of that fact, across our full team, no matter what role.

Our service offering relies on that careful balance of trust and expertise. If it’s not there, then the whole thing falls apart. To put ones self in service of others is something that is not easy. It’s the most challenging yet most rewarding job out there. It’s one that can become incredibly rich when both parties trust, respect and enjoy each other. I so appreciate those in my life who make my experiences so much richer, beneficial and meaningful. And for Rational, our goal will always be to make our client experiences the best they have ever had, and that the work we deliver continues to build on our relationship and the careful balance between a client and a server.

This Labor Day we made jam. Darn good jam.

This Labor Day weekend was full of all things expected. Last minute school supply shopping, exchanging one size of jeans for another, buying the right “breakfast” groceries to ensure the kidlets get off to their first day of school with at least something of substance in their bellies. But it was also full of a few indulgent moments. Dinner at Spinasse. Lunch with Uncle Joey. And a fien-fien dinner consisting of potato chips, dip and two margaritas. Another more productive moment included a brief stop at the Ballard Farmer’s Market where we picked up a few flats of the most beautiful berries that we had seen all year. Blackberry and raspberry – big juicy organic pints of yumminess.

Ballard Market Berries

So we decided to make jam. Simple, right? Our moms made jam every summer. We grew up with pantries filled with jam, pickles, carrots, applesauce and the most adorable stacked canned peaches known to man. For the menial task of making jam, our mothers even went out and picked the darn berries themselves. Big buckets full of raspberries, blackberries, even huckleberries. They were hardcore, no doubt about it. Here we were grabbing a few flats at the Market for our jam making adventure. Happily paying the farmers for “picking” our bounty of berries, we went about our task. How hard could it be?

First there was the selecting of the right jars. Do we go the classic (boring) Mason jar route? Or the new stylish Weck jars route with their pretty contrasting color seals and stainless clips? We are designers after all. Presentation is everything. After one trip to Crate and Barrel and one to Metropolitan Market, we selected Weck. Sure they were a little more complicated, but they just look better. And they were different than the classic Mason jars our mothers had used. So they had to be innately better. Right? Jars chosen as a nod to our savvier selves, we were onto the next step.

Next was the selection of the recipe. For the love. There are a lot of simple jam recipe’s out there. From Cooks, to Martha, to Epicurious, to FoodNetwork, to Ball, to the NYTimes. We finally settled on a combination of recipes, making our own along the way. We did appreciate the canning lady’s photo essay. She had lovely pictures, and step-by-step instructions on what seemed to be a very simple process. Plus, she used our Weck jars so that was a good sign.

Finally, there was the making of the jam. The careful measuring of the berries, sugar and lemon. The boiling of the berries, the jars, the lids. The boiling of what seemed like everything. There was careful cooking of the berry concoction to the perfect temperature of 220 degrees. And tasting along the way to make sure we had the right balance of sweetness. Transferring the filled jars to a boiling water bath for sealing was precarious at best. Here is where those Mason jars would have actually been easier. But in the end, we ended up with this most delicious, beautifully packaged jam that I have ever seen. Jam that would make our mothers – dare I say it – proud!


Our efforts created just a few jars. Four each of raspberry and blackberry. Quality not quantity is true in all things in life, including jam.

Raising kids the Italian way. Good, bad, indifferent? You be the judge.

I’ve been a mom for far longer than I care to admit. My three children have given me more joy than I can express, so much so that it often brings me to tears if I really begin to think about it. But even with all this joy, raising kids is hard. There is so much that can go wrong! I constantly have to remind myself to trust my instincts and to do as I was taught. I had pretty darn good parents and I was a darn good kid. Something worked out there.

For better or for worse. I recently read an article about raising kids in France. It was fascinating to me as the approach was completely different in how I was brought up. This got me thinking about the topic, and made me try to understand how my own upbringing has influenced, is influencing, how I am raising my kids today.

I like to term my upbringing as “classic Italian.” Big family, all about family, and more family. Did I mention family? Children were of utmost importance in the Petosa clan. We held a special place in everybody’s eyes. Our family made us feel important. Loved. And maybe a little spoiled. Actually, a lot spoiled. Not misbehaved, or ungrateful by any means, but spoiled by every means.

My parents did things for me that I am to this day – forever grateful for. Trip to New York to dance for the summer? No problem. $60 pointe shoes every other week? Sure thing. A car to drive when you turn 16? Well of course! Private horse-riding lessons and with your own horse in the backyard? You got it. Private school. Special meals. The pair of shoes in that magazine that you just had to have. The list goes on and on. My parents were not wealthy. Yet somehow, they managed. They sacrificed. They put my needs, my desires, and my wishes first. This extended way beyond material things. But you get the gist.

In Italian households, mine included, parents make profound sacrifices to do everything and anything to make sure their children are happy, successful, fulfilled. So what is the harm in that? Don’t all parents? Maybe. But in some families <insert French case study here> the same focus does not seem as extreme.

I’m still learning  (even 24 years into this parenting thing) that there is a careful balance between prioritizing your children and not letting them overtake and run your life. The two can and do coexist. But one slip in this special dance and you’ll find yourself spending $350 on shoes your kid does not need. You Italian parents out there will know exactly what I’m talking about. You French parents, not so much.

I need to do better at not spoiling my kids. At making sure they are grateful for all they do have, thankful for the lives and the love they receive, and that they know that they are and will always be my #1 priority, but that my needs are important too. Italian families have a way of making you feel like you are the most important person in the world. I want my kids to feel like that. But my hope is that with that gift comes an appreciation, love, respect and the ability to make others in their lives feel the same.  For me, that’s the Italian way. Or maybe it’s just my way.

The best darn brownies EVER

I’m a chocolate fan. A huge chocolate fan. But I’m a picky chocolate fan. I won’t bother with any of that milk or white chocolate nonsense. Just give me the good stuff. Dark chocolate all the way! It’s wonderful. And it’s even good for you.

Dark chocolate is made up of cocoa beans, which are full of flavonoids that act as antioxidants. This power-packed little taste treat can lower your blood pressure, lower your cholesterol and increase your brain-power. The list of health benefits goes on and on. Besides the fact that it actually tastes really yummy.

I’ve been making brownies for years, searching for the ultimate dark chocolate fix. With more failures than I’d like to admit, this time around success was a delightful surprise. Maybe it’s the stout, maybe it’s the salt. Whatever it is, the ingredients combine for a perfectly moist, perfectly sweet, rich chocolate treat.


  • 1 cup of dark stout. We used oatmeal stout, which was really delicious.
  • 16 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, chopped, divided. We used a combo of Bakers and Ghirardelli.
  • 2 1/4 sticks butter
  • 1 1/2 cups sugar
  • 3 large eggs at room temperature
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, divided
  • Your choice of fancy salt for sprinkling. Our favorite is white flake sea salt.
  • 8 walnut halves to top


Preheat oven to 350°. Line a 9x9x2″ metal baking pan with foil, leaving a 2″ overhang. Bring stout to a boil in a medium sauce- pan; cook until reduced to 1/2 cup, about 12 minutes. Let cool. Reserve 1/4 cup stout.

Stir 12 oz. chocolate and 1 cup butter in a medium metal bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water until melted and smooth.

Whisk sugar, eggs, and vanilla in a large bowl to blend. Gradually whisk in chocolate mixture, then 1/4 cup stout from pan. Fold in flour and 1 1/4 tsp. salt. Pour batter into prepared pan.

Bake brownies until surface begins to crack and a tester inserted into center comes out with a few moist crumbs attached, 35–40 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack and let cool for at least 20 minutes.

Stir remaining 4 oz. chocolate in a medium metal bowl set over a sauce-pan of simmering water until melted and smooth. Add reserved 1/4 cup reduced stout, remaining 2 Tbsp. butter, and 1/4 tsp. salt; whisk until well blended. Pour warm glaze over brownies. Let stand at room temperature until glaze is set, about 40 minutes.

Using foil overhang, lift brownie from pan; cut into squares. Place a walnut on each square, sprinkle with tiny bit of fancy salt.

Best Brownies EVER

Good karma and the case of the missing purse

I believe in karma. I believe that in life you get what you give and that the rules of the universe fundamentally reward kindness, generosity, honesty and goodness. It is with that trust in humanity and the universal balance of good versus evil I go about my days. Sometimes blissfully trustful that things will always “be all-right.”

There is one thing in particular that continues to test this rule with me. I have a very bad habit of leaving (forgetting) my purse. I leave it in random places ALL THE TIME. In coffee shops, restaurants and stores. In schools, libraries, and gyms. I’m not kidding. It’s actually really embarrassing. I even carry a purse that has one of those super long straps so I can sling it across my body. It’s hard to leave something that is strapped to you, but somehow I still manage to do so.

For those of you who know me well, (this means you mom), you will likely roll your eyes and say to yourself, if her head wasn’t connected to her body, she’d lose that too! It’s likely.

But each and every time I have lost, (left) my purse – and it’s now easily 40 or more times – it has always been returned to me with the original contents still safely inside. That’s karma at work.

Today I have to thank my new community at St. Anne for tracking me down and returning my purse. When I received the phone call that it had been found in the gym and was safely locked away, I honestly did not know I had even left it. Woops!

Maybe I should stop carrying a purse or maybe I should just stop forgetting it. Either way, I’m grateful for good karma.

My Good Karma Bag

Sometimes a simple phone call (and ribs) can make your day

I come from a big family. A big Italian family. Growing up we never really had many friends. We had family. Cousins, uncles, aunts. Who needed friends when we had so much love, so much fun, within our own little circle of Italian goodness. Eventually our big family became really big. My cousins had families of their own, and so on. With such a big group, it was hard to stay connected. It’s still hard to stay connected. But just because things change doesn’t mean that they aren’t as important as they always were. When you are Italian, and a Petosa, family is family. And we are all very important to each other. I was recently reminded of this.

A few nights ago, I received an unexpected call from my cousin Mark. He called just to say hi, just to check in on me, and to (of course) ask me about a recipe for something I posted awhile back. His call put the biggest smile on my face. I have not spoken to him in awhile so it was great to briefly catch up. And talk about food. And life. And food. And love. And food. Which is kind of our life. So this one is for you, “My Marcus.” Thank you for calling to make my day. Cousins are special. And I am grateful for you. And for our little big family.

Ribs. With cheddar polenta. Yum.

Short Ribs with Cheezy Polenta












First, prep ribs
• 1 rack beef short ribs, about 2 1/2 pounds, cut into 4-ounce portions
• 2 tablespoons ancho chile powder
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon soy sauce
• 1 dried ancho chile
• 1 medium yellow onion, sliced
• 4 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
• 6 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
• 6 tablespoons light brown sugar
• 1/4 cup kosher salt
• 1 gallon water
• Cheddar Polenta, recipe follows

Next, prepare ribs
Season both sides of the ribs with the ancho chile powder. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 6 hours or overnight. Note, this is an important step. Plan ahead!

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Place a roasting pan over 2 burners on the stove. Add oil and sear ribs on all sides. Add the soy sauce, ancho chile, onion, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, brown sugar, kosher salt, and water to the roasting pan, and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Adjust the seasoning, to taste, and tightly cover, and transfer to the oven. Cook until the ribs are tender and fall from the bones, about 3 to 3 1/2 hours.

Last, prepare polenta
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 2 cups milk
• 2 teaspoons minced garlic
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme leaves
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 cup polenta
• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese
• 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan

In a large, heavy saucepan, combine 1 1/2 cups of water with the milk, garlic, bay leaf, thyme, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil and slowly add the polenta, whisking constantly. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring often with a large wooden spoon, until the polenta thickens, about 25 minutes.

Add the butter and stir until melted. Add the cheddar and Parmesan, and stir well. Adjust seasoning, to taste, and serve hot. Over the yummy ribs. Which will be perfect after 3 1/5 hours of cooking.

Note: Thank you JC for sharing this. It’s one of my favorites and is sure to now be a favorite of the entire Petosa clan. For those of you still on the January health program, sadly, this recipe is NOT for you.

I thought I loved you Steve Jobs

This subject is a little tired for me. Unfortunately as people within my network get through Walter Isaacson’s biography on Steve Jobs, the discussion continues on.

First and foremost, I love Apple products. I’ve always loved Apple products. I financed my first computer, a Macintosh Classic, at the University of Washington bookstore. It took me a year to pay for it but it was worth every penny. That computer changed my life! It gave me the tools to be a designer, a communicator, an artist. Today, my company Rational Interaction, is a multi-platform interactive agency. In our studio, we have our share of PC’s, but Apple is our favorite, our preferred platform. For design, for development, for our own personal use. There is no way around it – we heart Apple. With so much love for a company, for it’s products, for it’s leader, it was devastating when I started hearing excerpts from the bio “Steve Jobs” about how Steve was as a person and how he operated his company.

So now, with a bit of time removed from his death and the biography, I’m actually pretty annoyed to hear Steve continually being idolized and “quoted.” Steve was a brilliant entrepreneur and self-promoter. He had an unflinching and intuitive design aesthetic that was a driving force within Apple. But he also stole the vast majority of “his” ideas from those closest to him, claiming ideas just told to him as his own.

I won’t even go into how he was as a father or a friend. Suffice it to say, in the end Steve was a jerk. Not just a jerk, but a BIG JERK. He intentionally made people cry. He belittled them. He exploited their weaknesses and took advantage of their kindness. Steve was a bully.

Understood Steve was a flawed individual. Really, we all are. But it’s the “meanness” in Steve I can’t quite get over. For somebody who brought so much delight and happiness with the products he delivered, I just wished he could have been a better person. Maybe it’s the glass half full in me, the eternal optimist, but I can’t help imagine what he could have done in the world if he actually had been kind, a decent guy.

I think the New Yorker summed it up well in this article by Malcolm Gladwell. Steve’s life was “messy”, and while he changed technology and product design forever, he was a “tweaker”, someone who didn’t create but rather refined other peoples ideas.

I will no longer idolize the person that is Steve. Instead, I will idolize the team that was behind him at Apple, the amazingly talented designers and engineers that are the “true” creative geniuses in the story of Apple.

Apple Desktop

My Apple Desk

Is the “I’m going to be healthy” resolution already getting to you? It is me. Two weeks in. That’s about right.

Is the “I’m going to be healthy” resolution already getting to you? It is me. Two weeks in. That’s about right.

Well, here we are, January 16, 2012 and I’m craving a bag of potato chips, a baguette with a slab of butter, and a salted caramel to finish. My willpower is fading. And fast. Tonight I tried desperately to bring new life to the Tupperware full of grilled chicken breasts that were sitting in the fridge on the fast track to becoming focker food. I do want to eat healthier this year. It’s important for my family, for myself. I get it. And I’m committed to it. That said, I love food. I love cooking. I love a great meal with an amazing bottle of wine. So if this healthy thing is going to work, I’ve got to spice it up a bit.  Surprisingly, my little experiment this evening worked. I took one of my favorite French recipes and lightened it up a LOT. I’m not quite sure of the calorie/fat count, but I can assure you it’s guilt free. And delicious! Try it for yourself. I know you are looking for things to do with those chicken breasts in your fridge.

Guilt free Savory Chicken Crêpes

Guilt free savory chicken crêpes











  • 3 tablespoons butter. I always use salted, but whatever you have is fine
  • 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/4 cups nonfat milk
  • 1 1/4 cups chicken broth
  • 1/4 cup chopped shallot
  • 1/2 cup chopped mushrooms
  • 2 cups finely chopped cooked previously cooked chicken breasts
  • Several sprigs of fresh thyme, chopped
  • Splash of your favorite dry white wine
  • 1 lb asparagus


  • 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
  • 1 1/4 cups nonfat milk
  • 1 whole large egg
  • 1 large egg yolk
  • 1 tablespoon butter, melted

First, make filling.
Heat the initial 3 tablespoons of butter in a 2-quart heavy saucepan over moderate heat until foam subsides. Whisk in flour and cook the roux, whisking, until pale golden, about 2 minutes. Gradually add milk and broth, whisking, and bring to a boil, whisking. Reduce heat and simmer gently, whisking frequently, until the sauce is silky and thick, about 25 minutes.

Next, cook shallot in a tiny bit of butter in a heavy skillet over moderate heat, stirring, until softened, 2 to 3 minutes. Add mushrooms and cook, stirring, until lightly browned, about 4 minutes. Add this yumminess to the rue sauce, along with the cut up chicken breasts along with the thyme and white wine.

Blanch the asparagus and reserve to serve on the side of your crêpes.

Make crêpes:
Sift together flour, salt, nutmeg, and pepper to taste into a bowl. Whisk together milk, whole egg, and yolk in a small bowl, then gradually whisk into flour mixture. Force batter through a fine sieve into a bowl.  Don’t skip this step. It’s key to assuring you have lump free crêpes.

Heat a dry nonstick skillet over moderately high heat until hot, I like to use the same one I cooked my mushrooms and shallots in, then brush very lightly with some melted butter. Spoon about ½ cup batter into skillet, tilting to coat bottom. Cook until underside is lightly browned, 6 to 10 seconds, then loosen crêpe with a spatula and flip. Cook until just cooked through, about 20 seconds, and transfer to a plate. Fill with the chicken filling, and fold crepe sides up. Serve with asparagus and a glass of white wine.

Healthy. Yummy. Goodness.

Enjoy! (That’s for you Max)