How to Make French Toast for Your Honey: A Valentine's Day Tutorial
I do not cook, in the same way that I do not cross-country ski. I prepare food, and I walk around in the snow, but I never use more than one heating element and I don't strap fiberglass to my feet.
I worked in a soda fountain for several years in high school, and learned to make all kinds of things pretty well. Food was never really a focal point in my family, though my mom worked very hard at homecooking nearly everything we ate. So it wasn't until I was 16 that I realized a salad with "everything" was not actually a salad with pickles on it. (Okay, people, FINE, I am a freak. Just pick them off and shut he hell up.) I learned what the different styles of egg were, when to put the bacon on in relation to the eggs (later, a lot lot later), how to make hashbrowns (butter, grill press, put them on before you even think about doing anything else because they take forever to cook).
So through this experience of making complicated breakfasts for the most picky and sneering people on earth, I learned to make a french toast that will make you cry. With pleasure, I mean, not because there are razorblades in it. In that spirit, I give you:
Orooni's Guide to French Toast:
You will need: a griddle, bread (slightly dry bread helps absorption), as many eggs as slices of toast you would like, milk, vanilla, cinnamon, one regular sized dinner plate, and one oversized dinner plate or shallow salad bowl (big enough for a piece of bread to lie flat). And obvious things like a fork and spatula.
1) Place skillet on range (they're called ranges, right?) and set on high, unless you want to burn the shit out of your first piece. If not (and la di da for you), set it on four.
2) Put first piece of bread onto regular dinner-sized plate and cinnamon both sides to taste.
3) Mix an egg or two, plus some milk (about as much volume of milk as there is of egg), plus a little shot of vanilla, on the oversized dinner plate/shallow salad bowl.
4) Place the cinnamon-ed bread in the mixture and let it sit on the first side for awhile. (A few minutes.) You can use this time to cinnamon up some more slices and turn the burner down if you set it on high.
5) Flip the bread in the mixture over, let it sit for a bit longer, then transfer to griddle. For the first few, try this with a fork only, but after shredding several pieces, give up and use your fingers. Just make sure your hands are clean first, for God's sake.
6) Move next cinnamoned piece of bread to the egg mixture, replenishing egg, milk, and vanilla as necessary.
7) Look for spatula that isn't broken; discover in un-run dishwasher and settle for one that is broken.
8) Flip piece on griddle as soon as it becomes easy to un-stick. Or, if you greased the griddle for some reason, when it's golden brown, yada yada. Let cook on other side until you need room on griddle for next piece.
9) Continue as established until you have a big old pile of french toast.
10) Serve with burned side down and a dollop of love, because you forgot to buy syrup.
I worked in a soda fountain for several years in high school, and learned to make all kinds of things pretty well. Food was never really a focal point in my family, though my mom worked very hard at homecooking nearly everything we ate. So it wasn't until I was 16 that I realized a salad with "everything" was not actually a salad with pickles on it. (Okay, people, FINE, I am a freak. Just pick them off and shut he hell up.) I learned what the different styles of egg were, when to put the bacon on in relation to the eggs (later, a lot lot later), how to make hashbrowns (butter, grill press, put them on before you even think about doing anything else because they take forever to cook).
So through this experience of making complicated breakfasts for the most picky and sneering people on earth, I learned to make a french toast that will make you cry. With pleasure, I mean, not because there are razorblades in it. In that spirit, I give you:
Orooni's Guide to French Toast:
You will need: a griddle, bread (slightly dry bread helps absorption), as many eggs as slices of toast you would like, milk, vanilla, cinnamon, one regular sized dinner plate, and one oversized dinner plate or shallow salad bowl (big enough for a piece of bread to lie flat). And obvious things like a fork and spatula.
1) Place skillet on range (they're called ranges, right?) and set on high, unless you want to burn the shit out of your first piece. If not (and la di da for you), set it on four.
2) Put first piece of bread onto regular dinner-sized plate and cinnamon both sides to taste.
3) Mix an egg or two, plus some milk (about as much volume of milk as there is of egg), plus a little shot of vanilla, on the oversized dinner plate/shallow salad bowl.
4) Place the cinnamon-ed bread in the mixture and let it sit on the first side for awhile. (A few minutes.) You can use this time to cinnamon up some more slices and turn the burner down if you set it on high.
5) Flip the bread in the mixture over, let it sit for a bit longer, then transfer to griddle. For the first few, try this with a fork only, but after shredding several pieces, give up and use your fingers. Just make sure your hands are clean first, for God's sake.
6) Move next cinnamoned piece of bread to the egg mixture, replenishing egg, milk, and vanilla as necessary.
7) Look for spatula that isn't broken; discover in un-run dishwasher and settle for one that is broken.
8) Flip piece on griddle as soon as it becomes easy to un-stick. Or, if you greased the griddle for some reason, when it's golden brown, yada yada. Let cook on other side until you need room on griddle for next piece.
9) Continue as established until you have a big old pile of french toast.
10) Serve with burned side down and a dollop of love, because you forgot to buy syrup.
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