he crêpe, which is about 800 years old, has made more comebacks than Cher and Tina Turner combined. All you have to do is look to the past three decades for recent proof. In the 1960s crêpes catapulted to renewed fame, all thanks to Auntie Julia, who literally ignited our passion for the lacy, thin pancakes when she flambéed crêpes suzette on her show "The French Chef." And afterwards in millions of dining rooms across the country, lights were dimmed as pans of leaping flames were ceremonially paraded out of kitchens. And so what if ceilings were occasionally singed, and fingers sometimes burned? That was part of the fun. Sadly, though, the crunchy-granola Birkenstock-wearing craze that closed the decade elbowed out what was considered a fussy, bourgeois cuisine, and the formidable crêpe fell out of favor.

Several years later it was resuscitated by of all things, brunch. The 1970s saw us stumbling out of bed on Sundays and gathering in restaurants, where overly sunny waiters were happy to take our orders. Bleary-eyed, we scanned the menu and spotted our old favorite. This time around, though, crêpes were tarted up with ingredients that would shock even the most unflappable of Frenchmen: tuna salad; Velveeta, salsa, and jalapeños; and Crock-Pot chili. It's no wonder they once again suffered from plummeting Q scores and went the way of the much-ridiculed quiche.

Once again, the French perennial is back with renewed style and class, popping up in restaurants throughout Southern California. "This generation of young people are rediscovering crêpes," says Thierry Boisson, chef and owner of Acadie Restaurant, in Santa Monica. "For them it's a new way to eat and a chance to get away from the fast-food craze."

Boisson's menu doesn't read like those found in France, which list countless combinations that, in some cases, are as old as the crêpe. Instead he enjoys dabbling in the culinary equivalent of wife swapping, coupling ingredients both classic and modern, foreign and domestic, to give a little thrill. Case in point: the Acadie Crêpe, which is filled with slow-cooked buttered apples, good ol' American maple syrup, and French vanilla ice cream. However, Boisson is smart enough to know not to mess with a few stalwarts in the crêpe pantheon — the traditional butter and sugar variety and the upstart of the bunch, the Nutella-filled version.

Anyone who has ever made crêpes knows it takes a try or two to get the hang of it. One of the most important things is to heat the pan properly. Boisson offers these guidelines: If the crêpes stick, the pan's too cold; if they bubble like mad, the pan's too hot. A perfect crêpe, he says, will bubble a bit, and the edges will curl and crisp slightly. One last thing, don't be afraid to use your fingers when flipping — it's a sign of a true master.

Now go brush up on your technique, because if history is any indication, crêpes will be making appearances for years to come. Even Cher can't say that.

Recipe
Chocolate-Coconut Crêpes