The story of French toast is lurid tale of a canoe, wretched coffee, a hot shower and . . . of course . . . French Toast.
It all began on a beautiful September day when a group camp out was planned on an island in the shadow of an ancient castle. There was a man with a boat and a woman with a paddle. They both wanted to get to the island but without each other it was not possible. With a twist of fate and the help of a mutual friend this man and woman met and were able to make their way to the island. They did not know it at the time, but in the midst of the short journey from shore to shore providence touched the man and the woman. When they reached the island people exclaimed that the two must be brother and sister or husband and wife . . . such was the nature of their playful banter. The amazing day on the water concluded magically. With his strong arms the man held the woman against him. “What a perfect day,” he said. The woman agreed and snuggled against him. “It would be even better if the moon would appear,” and just as he stated this a bright round moon emerged from behind the clouds, shimmering upon the water. “The only thing that could possibly make this any better is if there were fireworks.” And so it was . . . from across the water erupted fiery sprays of every hue, glistening like gems in the sky. The group of intrepid outdoor enthusiasts adjourned to their tents and sleeping bags. And then there were more fireworks and a lot of noisy . . . uhm . . . raccoons . . . yeah, raccoons, that’s it! The next morning, the happy campers awoke to a torrent of rain. Not wanting the magic to end, the woman asked the man if he would like a hot shower, a steaming cup of coffee, and sweet French toast. He happily agreed and they made their way across the water in the torrent. To her home they went. When they arrived she offered him a fluffy towel and pointed him to the bathroom. While he washed away the chill of the drenching rain she brewed a pot of coffee . . . the second worst cup of coffee he’d ever had in his life, he would later proclaim. Not wanting to offend, he hesitantly sipped the foul beverage while the air filled with the wonderful smells of vanilla, cinnamon, butter and syrup. “God, I hope her cooking is better than this coffee,” he thought to himself, all the while sipping at the brew. She served up the warm and toasty, syrupy bread and with the first bite his fate was sealed. He was forever linked to the woman of the strategically ripped shorts, red thong and butterfly tattoo . . . a destiny fulfilled two years later on that very same island where first they had met.
Henceforth the last Sunday of each month was known as French Toast Sunday which is to be celebrated with a heaping helping of French toast, crispy bacon, much improved coffee and fireworks.
Here’s how to make your own pile of
Cher’s personal love potion:
- White Bread Or Cinnamon Bread
- 4 Eggs
- A Dash Of Cream
- A Dash Of Vanilla Extract
- A Sprinkle of Cinnamon
- A Sprinkle Of Love Dust (Sugar May Be Substituted)
- Unsalted Butter
- REAL Maple Syrup
Crack open the eggs.
Add the milk, cinnamon, sugar and then a dash of vanilla. You can adjust this as you like to taste!
Beat with a whisk (or fork) until nice and frothy.
Heat up your skillet with a decent amount of butter. Adjust the heat to Medium to Medium high.
Dip a slice of bread in the egg mix, both sides and let it drip off for a second.
Place in skillet and fry till browned on one side and carefully flip it, it is easy to check it.
Slide the spatula under the edge, lift and look, if the edge is browned it is ready to flip! Fry on other side till browned again.
Toss on a plate while you make more, serve with whatever topping you prefer and enjoy!
Serve with a pat butter and a side of syrup. Crispy bacon and YUMMY coffee on the side.
All of the eggs I used in this recipe were courtesy of my good friends Stephanie and Phil.
If you live in or near
and want farm fresh eggs, contact Stephanie for pricing and availability. Connecticut