AI photoBroccoli Crêpes with Gorgonzola Sauce
Savoury crêpes rolled around tender broccoli, finished with a creamy gorgonzola sauce and roasted cherry tomatoes.
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Ingredients
- 4 pcs Eggs
- 250 g Plain flour
- 500 ml Milk
- 600 g Broccoli florets
- 200 g Gorgonzola
- 400 ml White wine
- 24 pcs Cherry tomatoes
- 6 tbsp Double cream
- 1 bunch Parsley
- 2 pcs Spring onion
- Olive oil to taste
- Butter to taste
- Salt to taste
- Black pepper to taste
Steps
In a bowl, whisk the eggs with the milk, add a pinch of salt and gradually whisk in the flour until smooth.
Cover the bowl with cling film and chill in the fridge.
30 minSlice the spring onion into rounds and fry in a pan with a little olive oil.
Rinse the broccoli florets, cut into pieces and fry with the onion, seasoning with salt, black pepper and parsley.
Pour in the white wine and simmer the broccoli over medium heat until tender.
Blanch the cherry tomatoes for a few seconds, drain, peel and dice finely.
Warm the cream, add the chopped gorgonzola and melt, stirring, until the sauce is smooth.
Grease a non-stick pan with butter and heat it. Ladle in the batter, spreading it over the whole surface.
Fry the crêpes on both sides for 1-2 minutes each. Make eight crêpes.
2 minFill each crêpe with the stewed broccoli, roll up and place in a baking dish.
Drizzle the rolled crêpes with the still-warm gorgonzola sauce.
Bake in an oven preheated to 200°C with the grill function on.
5 minGarnish the crêpes with lightly pan-fried cherry tomatoes. Serve hot.
This is a savoury crêpe dish wearing French clothes but built like a Sunday roast relative — something braised, something melted, something baked just long enough to marry the two. The crêpe is only the wrapper. What decides whether this works is three separate things cooked exactly right and then brought together fast, because none of them wait well for the others.
The batter is the one part with real chemistry in it: egg for structure, flour for body, milk to thin it to pourable, and a rest in the fridge that isn't ritual — it's giving the flour time to actually absorb the liquid so the crêpe doesn't tear when you roll it. Skip the rest and you'll know, because the first crêpe will stick and shred rather than peel.
The broccoli is braised, not boiled — it goes in with hot oil and onion first, so it picks up some colour and fat before the wine arrives, and the wine isn't there for flavour alone, it's steam with a job: it finishes the broccoli gently enough that it bends under a fork rather than mushing into paste. Some say broccoli for a filling should be blanched first in a separate pot — no, because that's an extra pan to wash and a watered-down flavour; simmered in its own fat and wine it keeps what it has.
Eggs here are structural, not enriching — four eggs to 250g flour and 500ml milk gives you a batter thin enough to spread by tilting the pan, which matters more than any crêpe pan folklore. You don't need a dedicated crêpe pan; a wide non-stick frying pan does the job, you just need butter in it and a hot surface before the batter goes anywhere near it, otherwise the first crêpe sticks and you throw it away — that's normal, not failure, it's seasoning the pan.
Broccoli florets, not stalks, because florets have surface area that catches oil and colour; if you've only got stalks, slice them thin and expect a longer simmer before they bend rather than snap. Spring onion goes in before the broccoli because it's softer and needs less time — treat it as the base note, not the headline.
Gorgonzola is doing a specific job: salt, fat, and a tang that cuts the blandness of a boiled-vegetable-and-cream filling. Any blue cheese with real character works — Roquefort, Stilton if you want to lean properly British about it, even a strong Cashel Blue — the criterion is "blue cheese that still tastes of something when diluted in cream," not brand loyalty. A milder gorgonzola dolce will vanish into the cream and you'll have warm cream with crêpes, which is a different, sadder dish.
The wine is there to deglaze and steam-cook, not to get you drunk on reduction — any dry white you'd actually drink a glass of works, because you're not reducing it to a syrup, you're using it to finish cooking vegetables in a covered simmer. If you've genuinely got none, a splash of stock with a squeeze of lemon does the acid-and-moisture job, though you lose a little depth.
Cherry tomatoes get blanched for seconds only — just enough to split the skin so it peels off in one motion, not to cook the tomato. Skip the peel if you're feeding people in a hurry; the texture suffers slightly but the dish doesn't collapse. They're pan-fried again at the end as garnish, which is really there to add a warm acidic bite against all that cream and cheese — without it the whole plate tips into one-note richness.
Double cream is the standard British choice and it's the right one here — its fat content is high enough to hold up against melting cheese without splitting, which a lighter single cream can't reliably do. If you only have crème fraîche, it'll work but bring more tang of its own, so taste before you add extra salt.
This feeds four as a proper plated starter or light main — eight crêpes, two each — and it's not a quick-dinner dish despite looking tidy on the plate. The batter rest, the slow broccoli braise, the careful cream melt: none of it can be rushed without you tasting exactly where you rushed it. Patience here isn't virtue for its own sake, it's the difference between a filling that holds together when you roll it and one that weeps liquid all over your baking dish.