From Hungary to France: A Family Mágnás Palacsinta Recipe for Crêpe Day
Grandma Erzsi stands in her sunlit kitchen on Partizanim Street, not moving from the pan placed over a small flame. On the bright table sits a large plate from the flower-patterned service set. A piece of margarine sizzles in the pan, and with her characteristic motion, Grandma pours in a ladle of fragrant batter. With perfect movements, she rounds the pancake – or as she calls it, “palacsinta” – in the pan, creating a perfect circle. With a thin spatula, she occasionally lifts the edges of the pancake to peek underneath, checking if the browning is healthy or if it needs more time.
Then, in a split-second decision, she knows – she simply knows it’s the right moment to slide the pancake from the pan onto the flower-patterned service plate. With measured movements, she sprinkles cocoa powder and sugar over the hot palacsinta and repeats the process for many long minutes. Slowly, a tower of juicy pancakes builds up, with cocoa slowly melting between them from the warmth of the palacsinta. Then comes the moment when the final pancake is placed on the sweet cocoa layer. There are moments in life of pure joy, moments that are created in the heart over the years and are remembered with a smile every time.
In our family, this palacsinta tower is called “Mágnás palacsinta,” but not just Mágnás – it’s “Mágnaaaaás,” with the pronunciation stretched exactly as you’d imagine a Hungarian grandmother speaking. However, the original name of the tower is “Csúsztatott Palacsinta,” meaning “slided pancakes,” because they’re slid from the pan one on top of another. Palacsinta are, if you will, the Hungarian crepes, and can be filled with sweet or savory fillings. When prepared as individual pancakes, they’re naturally browned on both sides and filled with anything possible, preferably chocolate 🙂 We would usually eat the Mágnás on special occasions, or when we simply needed something comforting.
Grandma Erzsi, my father’s mother, was the champion of Zserbó but was undoubtedly also the champion of Mágnás, and later passed the recipe to my mother (the photo is from my mother’s recipe notebook that I took with me to Paris) who made it the most delicious way possible, closest to Grandma’s version. The magic of this creation lies in its simplicity, but mainly in the fact that the palacsinta are browned only on one side while the other side remains very soft and warm, thus absorbing the cocoa and sugar. The layers stack one on top of another, and the fact that one side of the pancake remains soft turns the tower into a mountain of tenderness and juiciness that’s hard to describe.
And why am I planning to make the Mágnás today? Because in a few days it’s the Crepe Festival in France. During February, France fills up with sweet and savory crepes, loaded with all kinds of goodness. The celebration begins on February 2nd, marking Chandeleur (Candlemas), and continues throughout most of the month.
This Catholic holiday commemorates the presentation of baby Jesus at the temple, 40 days after his birth (Christmas). In memory of this event, Chandeleur is celebrated with pilgrims conducting candlelit processions during which they were served crepes.
But it’s not just religious matters connected to this day – the religious holiday merges with a completely secular event. February 2nd marks a kind of prelude to spring, hope for abundance and fertility. Thus, they celebrated a religious holiday alongside a secular event. Making crepes was a joyful and colorful occasion, accompanied by superstitions, such as making crepes while holding a silver or gold coin.
A crepe is typically a thin batter made from wheat flour or buckwheat flour – in the latter case, the French call it “galette,” and it’s mainly served as a savory crepe with various fillings. It’s an almost basic food for the French, who view it as a complete meal when accompanied by a green salad, and for dessert, naturally, the sweet crepe is served, usually made from wheat flour. The place where French people enjoy their crepes is called a “crêperie.”
Different types of “crepes” exist in many cultures – American pancakes, Japanese pancakes, and Hungarian palacsinta are among the most famous. So, in honor of the holiday, here’s Grandma’s wonderful Mágnás recipe that I found in Mom’s yellowing recipe notebook. Unlike my tendency to be precise to the gram, I’m presenting the recipe as is – just the margarine I won’t keep.
Grandma Erzsi’s Mágnás palacsinta
Ingredients ![]()
Palacsinta:
5 separated big eggs
50g very soft butter
5 tablespoons sugar
5 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup whole milk
Filling: A mixture of cocoa powder and sugar in a 1:2 ratio
(for each tablespoon of cocoa, 2 tablespoons of sugar)
Preparation ![]()
1. Separate the eggs into yolks and whites.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together egg yolks with butter and sugar.
3. Add flour and milk and continue whisking.
4. In a mixer bowl, whip the egg whites to stiff peaks.
5. Fold the whipped egg whites into the yolk mixture.
6. Heat a 20cm-bottom pan and grease with butter.
7. Using a ladle, place a layer of batter in the pan (not as thin as a crepe, with some volume), spread the batter by rotating the pan in circular motions.
8. Check occasionally with a spatula if the back of the palacsinta has browned, once it’s golden enough, remove from heat.
Assembly ![]()
And now for the important part – there are two assembly techniques:
First technique – slide the first palacsinta onto a flat plate so that the browned side is facing down and the soft side up. Immediately after sliding the pancake, sprinkle it with 3 tablespoons of the pre-prepared cocoa-sugar mixture. Continue this process, flipping the rest of the palacsinta over the plate so the browned side faces up. Sprinkle cocoa and sugar between each pancake, except for the last one, which remains exposed.
Second technique – exactly the same, except slide all pancakes from the pan with the browned side down and only flip the last pancake so the browned side faces up. This is our family’s preferred technique 🙂
Eat immediately upon completion, while the Mágnás is warm, juicy, and fluid.
Bon-Appétit
Sharon


Alma
Sounds delicious! Is there actually any difference in taste or whatsoever between first and second technique? Alma
Paris Chez Sharon
I think the final product is almost the same but the textures are a bit different.
Julia
My mother made these for me all the time when I was little. We filled them with apricot jam, or any licvar…jelly, spelling?
Paris Chez Sharon
❤️❤️
Ria
אימא שלי עשתה את זה, היא למדה מאימא שלה בהונגריה
Paris Chez Sharon
❤️❤️
Caritoargo
Lovely post
Paris Chez Sharon
Thank you 🙂