I haven't made or attempted to made French toast in who knows how many years... Me and the hubs have this thing where I don't cook Sunday ams since I cook everyday plus work full time. But I was feeling particularly inspired last sunday and we had a ton of leftover challah from shabbat (why do I buy two big ones every week? I'll never know) So I went to my old friend, my Epicurus app and looked up the easiest French toast I could find... I found this one. Simple right?
3 eggs, slightly beaten (I used organic eggs)
1/2 tablespoon salt (I used only half a teaspoon)
2 tablespoons sugar (Used Rapunzel raw organic sugar less sweet and way healthier)
1 cup milk (Used unsweetned almond milk)
6 slices bread (challah)
I put in a drop of vanilla so it wouldn't taste too 'eggy' and threw a drop of butter in the pan with medium-high heat... we stopped using Pam spray from all the chemicals.
I also took out the dark chocolate chips, natural peanut butter, banana and organic honey on the side.
Dip the 1/2 inch to 3/4 inch thick challah into the mixed batter containing eggs, salt, sugar and milk (in my case, added vanilla). Let it soak on each side for a bit, on heavier pieces I let it sit for half a minute or so. Then plopped in the pan, each piece varied timing wise so I waited till it was golden brown.
While the pieces were still hot, I added peanut butter, chocolate chips and thick banana slices and popped a piece of toast on top so it can melt. Since the pieces take time to cook, the timing worked out well to let the PB, chocolate melt in the sandwich. Drizzle honey on top, cut them into halves and served with a side of eggs. End result, was a well fed and happy hubby. (And I got to finish all the leftover challah bread.)
I've spent my life watching my mother cook tirelessly for my father and family. No recipe or party size was ever too big or small, she'd find a way to make sure everyone was fed, had seconds or thirds and we still had leftovers the next day. My favorite memories growing up was waking up to the smell of garlic especially on Friday mornings. Garlic was and still is a staple ingredient to any of my mother's dishes. I was raised in a Jewish observant home with an Egyptian sephardic (Mideastern descent) father z''l and a Brazilian askanaz (Eastern European descent) mother and despite their culture differences, the recipes always worked in the kitchen.
My mother always told me, 'you catch a man through his stomach...' Then she'd tell me how she spent time learning and perfecting my father's favorite dishes from Egypt.
So, when I got married to my American husband, whose parents hail from Lybia, I decided to take on that role of wanting to cook for everyone and everything... I even reached out to my mother in law to learn his favorite Lybian dish.
Though I quickly realized that the trouble with trying to copy my mother's recipes, that my husband loves, is she always did the cooking, we just did the eating.... and she never went by recipe. So here's my voyage as a newlywed trying to cook up a storm in a very small kitchen while keeping it kosher.
