Daddy's Magic: Using What We Had and Transforming Stale Bread

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Most of my vivid childhood memories aren’t of grand vacations or extravagant gifts; we weren’t that sort of family. Our lives were stitched together by simple things, driven by necessity since we were often broke. One such memory revolves around my dad's ability to make something from almost nothing, his French toast. It was far from fancy, definitely not the same sort of thing you would get from a restaurant. He often made do with the slices and heels of white bread that were starting to go stale. But somehow, my dad transformed those humble slices that none of us wanted into something magical.

He approached the kitchen with a certain confidence, though it always looked like he was just tinkering. He'd whisk together eggs and milk in one of my mama's old Tupperware bowls, adding a dash of cinnamon, a bit of sugar, and some vanilla extract. Then, he'd dip the stale bread into the mixture, letting it soak up the goodness before frying it in a pan with a little bit of butter, or what we could usually afford whether it was Country Crock or some sort of margarine. The warm, sweet aroma that filled our house was amazing.

His French toast wasn’t about culinary perfection; it was about resourcefulness. Out of very little, my dad created something special, something that was not just a satisfying breakfast but something that warmed my heart.

One particular morning, around the age of ten, I was going through a difficult time. I was grappling with something I felt too ashamed to discuss. Our neighbor, the father of a girl in my grade, had been abusing me in a way I couldn't fully understand, but I knew it was wrong. As I sat there, fork in hand, inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon, I desperately wanted to tell my dad. But the words wouldn’t come. Shame and fear held them captive. I was afraid he wouldn’t believe me—after all, he and the neighbor would wave and exchange pleasantries every weekend as the neighbor washed his Volkswagen in the front yard. I feared my dad would take his side. So, I ate my French toast, savoring every bite, and kept my secret locked away. I held that secret for years, the only person who knew, until I told my mom in my late 30s was my friend TK and it didn't surprise him at all.

Dad's Amazing French Toast Recipe

Ingredients:

  • 4 large eggs
  • 1 cup of milk (whole milk or half-and-half for a richer taste)
  • 1 tablespoon of sugar
  • 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon of ground cinnamon
  • A pinch of salt
  • 8 slices of thick-cut bread (Brioche or Texas toast works great, but stale white bread works too!)
  • Butter for cooking
  • Powdered sugar (optional, for serving)
  • Maple syrup (optional, for serving)

Instructions:

  1. Prepare the Batter: In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, sugar, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and salt until well combined.
  2. Dip the Bread: Heat a large skillet or griddle over medium heat and add a bit of butter to coat the surface. Dip each slice of bread into the egg mixture, allowing it to soak for a few seconds on each side.
  3. Cook the French Toast: Place the soaked bread slices onto the skillet or griddle. Cook until golden brown and slightly crispy, about 2-3 minutes per side.
  4. Serve: Serve the French toast warm, dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with maple syrup, if desired. You can also add fresh fruit or whipped cream for an extra treat.

What are some of your favorite childhood food memories? Share them in the comments below! And if you enjoyed this story and recipe, and want to help me keep sharing more like it, any small contribution would be greatly appreciated.



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