Stale bread sucks, but French toast is delicious. The other day I made use of an on-the-verge-of-stale baguette by whipping up some delicious French toast. It's such a simple and delicious way to start the day, even if it is almost lunch time. Also, it has lots of wiggle room for creativity; it can be sweet or savoury, you can use any type of bread, you can stuff the bread, you can top the finished product, or just keep things classically simple.
This reminded me though of a message Dave had sent to Daniel and I in the pre-blog days when we just waxed the poetic about food amongst each other. So I did some digging through my inbox and came across this little piece of writing:
Inspired by the latest GQ "what the fuck is wrong with men in America" - style editorial, I've decided to opine on some food verbiage. Equally inspired by my late grandmother, who was as hardcore of a 20th century middle-class francophone woman could be, this literary piece discusses the improper use of the word "french" in recipes.
I was having a lazy Sunday today, a rare occasion as of late. Given a semi-fresh baguette, my first inclination was to make some so-called "french toast". I recall the inspiring woman, in her late eighties, telling one of those stories in which the end moral was how hard life was (without the least hint of bitterness). The example she used that particular day was how she did not comprehend the common "french toast" nomenclature, and had rather been accustomed to calling it "pain perdu" (lost bread).
Lost bread simply implied that what we today call "french toast" was a means of turning not-so-fresh bread into something delicious.
My first question is how the hell did she ever need to put this recipe to use? In a house with 9 kids, I can't see much ever going bad.
Second, how did the "french" term slip itself into today's (english) wording? Is it an implication that fracophones are more ghetto? creative? or dedicated to deliciousness? Either way, I'll accept the answer to that question as a compliment.
Just a few years ago, our neighbors from the South tranformed the wording for what had been coined "french fries" to freedom fries in an attempt to ban all things french, following France's reluctance to enter the War. Well we all saw how that turned out. Good move, take a potato dunked in liquid heart attack formula and put it as the poster boy for your country's (failed) attempt to control the world's oil supply (pun intended?).
Thus, I digress. "French toast" is an excellent example of transforming something deemed as lost to the uncreative mind into a staple passed around a family table of eleven and ultimately influencing me, one of the 44 direct offspring of this wonderful hardcore lady.
I personally keep my "french toast" fairly simple. Aside from eggs and milk, I slip in some cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla. I make plenty of mix and turn the remaining unabsorbed deliciousness into some scrambled eggs. And finally, drench that shit in some maple sizzurp. Not to have at least 2 cans of that maple goodness on hand at all times is pretty much the equivalent to beating up a priest in Quebec.
Feel free to swap french toast recipes boys.
Rock on grand-maman,
David Alexandre Dalbec Marr, CHP
Some valuable insight into the meaning of French toast, no doubt. Dave has a great formula for a simple and delicious "Pain Perdu", and it is usually how I rock my French toast, too. I could go on about how to make French toast filled with cream cheese and jam, or nutella, or whatever, but lets stick to the basics.
You Will Need:
- Loaf of Not-so-fresh bread, cut into slices
- Couple of eggs
- Splash of milk
- A few pinches of cinnamon and nutmeg
- Splash of pure vanilla extract
- Butter
- Maple Syrup, 100% pure and fuckin' Canadian, eh!
In a shallow bowl or dish, crack in the eggs, add a splash of milk, vanilla and a sprinkle of nutmeg and cinnamon. Get the breakfast party started by beating everything together into a golden hued bath of goodness.
Get some butter melting in a pan over medium heat, and start dipping your bread slices into the egg bath. Flip them over and make sure the bread is well soaked in the egg. Sprinkle a little bit of cinnamon and nutmeg on the soaked bread for extra flavour and then fry the bread in the butter until one side is golden brown, then flip.
Once all your French toast is cooked, pile it up on a plate real sexy-like. While the pan is still hot toss in a pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg and let that enjoy the heat for a few seconds. Pour the maple syrup directly into the pan and swirl it around to incorporate all the spices while it bubbles away profusely. Then drizzle that warm, fragrant, sweet sweet tree nectar of the gods on top of that golden stack of rejuvenated bread.
Enjoy with a hot cup of coffee and relish in the delicious simplicity.
NOTE:
Daniel offered up a great suggestion with his version of French Toast, by incorporating some orange juice instead of milk and some zest from the rind. "The bitter/sour combination really sets it off and provides a delicate balance that makes you want to take more bites."
