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Some things seem too decadent, too cumbersome, and too indulgent to be easy. And that’s just how it should seem when you serve easy, breezy strawberry crepes on Valentine’s Day in the morning before you send your loved ones off into the world to be among the people who love them just a little less than you. My words here are not to introduce you to the crepe, there are many other creative recipes online that go beyond my abilities. I’m just saying that meals as special as strawberry crepes are possible even for a weekday breakfast.

I am well aware that strawberries are not in season. I know this because I have been living on oranges, pears, and apples from my farm people for way too many months now. Also, don’t raise your voices or type IN ALL CAPS because I also realize that strawberries cost four hundred dollars a pint this time of year. And yes, I get that whipping cream is loaded with fat, but I have skinny kids (probably from all that bok choy) who can take it with the protein goodness that clean milk products provide. Don’t beat me up over sugar, either, I promise it’s scant in this recipe. Now that we have that out of the way – wait, what’s that? someone just shouted, “what about the time it takes to make crepes?” Well mister, I used pre-packaged crepes. Oops.

Much of this sinfully easy recipe can be prepared the night before if you don’t have time in the morning. Slice the strawberries and stir them in with sugar in advance. They will be syrupy by morning. Some out there, might call it sinful that I will use freshly whipped cream for days after whipping, days after it qualifies as fresh. If you’re a purist, save the whipping until morning. If your a time economist, whip when it works for you.

My dear northern friends who have been relentlessly pummeled by snow, please read no further. The purple pansy on the plate is edible. I like to keep a pot of them on the patio, much like fresh herbs. They add great color to salads, vegetables and fruits. The ten year-old ate it like a caveman eating gristle off of a wildebeest. I like that it being a flower didn’t lessen his machismo chomping with mouth wide open. I ♥ him.