If I was stranded on a desert island could only have one sweet breakfast for the rest of my life, my choice would have to be French Toast. I can remember a period of time in my childhood when pancakes was an impossible idea. To get me to try pancakes, my mother made special itty bitty pancakes (silver dollar pancakes to the savvy and isn’t it just like me to want something small?) and as long as they were no bigger than the diameter of a soup can, I was happy to have them. Perhaps it was the fact that they were made from Bisquick rather than homemade, but I’m not going to knock my mother for it. The lack of homemade pancakes made me forage to fun and exotic places (like my friends’ houses or the Food Network) to discover that I too could make pancakes not from a box. Ever tried pumpkin pancakes? Wait–this was supposed to be about French Toast.
The other day I was truly craving some rich deeply delicious cinnamon French toast. However, the only bread I had been Ezekiel Cinnamon Raisin Bread which has been phenomenal toasted with a bit of natural peanut butter spread over it. There were lightbulbs going off all over the place when I thought how perfect the bread would be for French Toast and that I’d still be eating something somewhat healthy if I was careful with the syrup (which I was not). I went about making my French Toast, smelled good, looked fairly good, tasted not so good. (I’m sorry Food for Life people; I really do enjoy your products!)
I was terribly frantic to erase this kitchen tragedy from my palate. The following weekend I went out to breakfast with my parents and ended up taking my father’s French Toast leftovers home (The Mission has the best French Toast!). The following Monday I cut up fresh strawberries to accompany my slice of toast (no syrup necessary for this).