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Julie Crabtree - The Crepe Makers Bond

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An aspiring young chef and her two friends struggle to maintain their friendship and survive eighth grade in this charming sequel to Discovering Pig Magic.
Fourteen-year-old Ariel is the head chef in her familys kitchen. Cucumber salads, fettucine carbonara, fish tacos, and peanut butter pie are just a few of the dishes she crafts when shes feeling frustrated by the world, and its turning into a frustrating year. Ariel, Nicki, and M have been inseparable friends since they were kids, but now Ms mom has decided to move away. Its the girls last year in middle school, and they cant fathom being separated.
The friends concoct a plan that will keep M in the Bay Areashell move in with Ariel and her family. But before you can say bff, the party is over. Everything M does gets on Ariels nerves, and its not long before the girls are avoiding each other. This was supposed to be their best year ever, but some painful lessons are threatening to tear their friendship apart. Can the girls scramble to make things right before the bond crumbles?
Praise for The Crepe Makers Bond
Highly entertaining and multi-layered. . . . Creative and refreshing like a good souffl, this perceptive, heartfelt narrative . . . has real meat on its bones. Kirkus Reviews
Julie Crabtree blends themes of friendship and authentic emotions with the addition of some real recipes in The Crepe Makers Bond. This insightful and humorous depiction of the evolving friendship of three middle-school girls is a great match for ten- to thirteen-year-old readers. Foreword Reviews

Julie Crabtree: author's other books


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Table of Contents Also by Julie Crabtree Discovering Pig Magic For Jay - photo 1
Table of Contents Also by Julie Crabtree Discovering Pig Magic For Jay - photo 2
Table of Contents

Also by Julie Crabtree
Discovering Pig Magic
For Jay
The Taste of Poetry
Food is the poetry
of the mouth,
in its combinations comes
the exquisite tastes of life.

In delicate preparations,
the master chef
pours his heart out,
an exquisite art form.

Time honored tradition,
dedicated for human pleasure,
delivering music in its consumption,
arousing sense of taste.

In a mixture of spices,
the sweet blending,
simmering treasure of innovation,
sparkling liquor of interaction,
the notes come together
in a meal of perfection.

David Lester Young
June 21, 2003
A note from Ariel
You are about to read the story of one crazy year in my life. When I remember all that happened, both the great and the really sad, its mixed together with all the things I made in the kitchen. That might seem weird, but I find making fantastic food gives me sanity. I cant tell you this story without also telling you about what was going on in my kitchen as everything unfolded. These recipes are mixed in with the chapters, and theres also a listing of them in the back of the book. They are my own, and I hope youll try them for yourself. I have also included some of the tips and tricks I have learned over the years as Ive studied the art of food. Maybe you too will make something really fabulous despite the drama all around you.
Prologue
Earthquake
The earthquake started like they always do. Suddenly. Nicki and M were sitting on barstools watching me fold wontons one minute; the next second we were all thrown on the floor. I instinctively crouched against the cabinets as the wavelike motion of the earth rattled the flour canister off the counter. It hit my arm on its way down. My hearing became incredibly sharp and I instantly registered clacking silverware, pots and pans jingling deep within the cabinets, glasses and bowls clattering delicately, and the jarring blare of dozens of car alarms outside. My own sharp breathing was loudest of all. The floors vibration traveled through my knees and hummed in my belly. Shredded carrots and a wonton wrapper tumbled from the counter and landed next to me.
M yelled, Stay down, Nicki!
I heard Nicki say something but the fruit bowl clattered to the ground just then and I couldnt make out her words, only the fear. An apple rolled to a stop against my leg and, insanely, I wondered if the fall had bruised it.
Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. I stood up cautiously and peeked out the window. A hose reel had tumbled onto my mothers border of violets, smashing their delicate purple heads into the dirt. Our neighbors wind chime had fallen and shattered.
Nickis voice startled me out of my trance. Are you both okay?
I looked over at M, who was picking up paper napkins that had dropped to the floor with the first jolt. She nodded. No one said anything else. It was one of those weird frozen-in-time moments, like we were just hovering in space. I realized it was the absolute motionlessness of the earth that created this sensation.
There is no more complete feeling of stillness than right after an earthquake. You cant imagine how stable ground feels like such a gift. You want to trust it, but you cant. There are always aftershocks, little jolts and pulses beneath your feet reminding you that nothing is ever completely reliable. Not even the ground under your feet.
In my mind I always see that day, the day of the quake, as the point when things began to shift between me and M and Nicki. I began to see everything that happened as either before the quake or after the quake. It marked the start of the hardest year of my life. Well, my life so far.
Its funny that the quake became such a turning point for me because it was only a medium strength earthquake. No one in Alameda or anywhere else was killed. The broken stuff got swept up and thrown away, the cabinets got straightened, and everyones stories of where they were and what they were doing when it hit were told and then forgotten. But I still think of the quake as something that started a chain reaction somehow. Like the universe was trying to tell me something about the next few months.
I know none of this makes sense now. Maybe it will later on.
Shaky Ground Stuffed Wontons with Peanut Sauce
1 package small, square wonton wrappers (in the produce
section usually, refrigerated)
C. peanut oil
1 small bag shredded carrots
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked and chopped
(pre-cooked or even deli chicken works if youre in a
hurry)
C. honey-roasted peanuts, chopped
C. bottled peanut sauce (in the Asian food section)
Toss carrots, chicken, peanuts and C. peanut sauce in a bowl. Stuff the wontons by putting a heaping tablespoon of filling in the middle of each square, then folding it over so the ends come together to form a triangle. Use wet fingers (have a bowl with water near to dip your fingers in) to seal the edges together. You can also use a fork to make little crimps around the edges, which looks pretty but is more time-consuming. Heat oil in a skillet until very hot (flick a drop of water in it, and if it immediately sizzles, its hot enough). Cook wontons about a minute on each side, until golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Can serve hot or at room temperature. Arrange on a tray with a little bowl of remaining peanut sauce for dipping.
First Day of School
My obnoxiously loud alarm works its way into my brain. It takes me a minute to wake up enough to realize it isnt part of my dream. I hit the snooze button to buy eight more precious minutes before I have to force myself out of bed.
I stayed up way too late last night. Every article of clothing I own is either on my floor (rejected) or draped over my desk chair (possibly to be worn for the first day of eighth grade). The goal is to look great while also looking like I didnt try hard to look great. My outfit cant come across as too... effortful. It might be impossible.
And I have the whole chest issue to deal with. M and Nicki say Im lucky, but they have no idea how hard it is to be this developed. Anything low-cut or slightly tight makes me look like I am trying to show off, which I am not. I hate the stares actually. Anything baggy makes me look shapeless and fat, which I am not either. Sigh.
Having red hair on top of the aforementioned blessing makes it just plain hard to blend in. And I am only five feet tall, which is a whole other area of difficulty. Despite my many issues, I want my first-day outfit to give me a chance to make a new impression. I know most of the kids already, but every first day feels like a new start. Hopeful. I was thinking about this last night as I tried on and discarded T-shirts, sundresses, capris, and jeans. Nothing seemed right. What I really needed was a box of hair color, a new minimizer bra, and a sudden growth spurt.
Last night Id called M, hoping we could whine together about having nothing to wear, but she already had her outfit ready to go: low-rise camo pants from Old Navy, narrow black belt with small silver studs, and a black, long-sleeved T-shirt under her white, short-sleeved T-shirt from Banana Republic. Her aunt had given her a sharks tooth necklace from Hawaii, threaded on a rough-cut leather string, and it will perfectly complete her outfit. Shell look cool and causal and a tiny bit edgy, but not like she
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