If you know me, you know my favorite food: French Toast. wherever I go, I order it, and I semi-regularly fire up my griddle to fry up my own custard-filled slices. Recently, I admitted to my wife that if I could eat French Toast every day, I’d do it.

My French Toast obsession is, in a way, an effort to recreate a core part of my childhood when my mother would make her ridiculously sweet and wonderful cinnamon French toast. I’d eat the slices as fast as she could cook them, only stopping when my mother decided I’d had enough. Decades later, I realize that I’ve still never had French Toast just like it. My mother’s recipe, though unsurprisingly steeped in sugar, cinnamon, and butter, still seemed unique.



Source link