a toast to my dad

my dearest readers, i promise i have not run away. rather, my body has decided to mutiny in the form of malady. and coinciding with that, i started two new part time jobs. im on the mend and my job situation and schedule is settling, and i feel like i can breathe again. good news.

it's my late father's birthday and im making my annual feast of french toast. my dad was a big huge fan of my french toast, and i would make it quite often during my formative years. and by quite often i mean All The Time.

the swiss mister is amused that it's called french bread. i think they call it eggy bread or something like that. and it's not super popular around these parts.

but for me, it's just one of those things that i will always love and always make.  and especially on dad's birthday.  my recipe is not so much a departure from the "traditional" means of preparing this customary dish, and it is how ive been making it since i was 9 or 10.

eggs
bread
cinnamon
nutmeg
vanilla from mexico (the real deal)

the exciting thing i decided to try was a whiskey butter with crunchie bits of yum. i visited my friend nicola today, and she made some honeycomb! she was making it for a very special pancake brunch she's having tomorrow. her plan is to crumble the honeycomb into the butter. wow, i thought, that sounds awesome. and then she gave me some honeycomb so i could try it too. and zam-wow is it good! it remembers me (this is the cute way my husband says reminds me) eating Crunchies in northern ireland.


my dad enjoyed a whiskey now and again. and im the same. i decided to whip some butter with whiskey (and a little powdered sugar for good measure) and fold in the delicious honeycomb crunchie bits.

this, my french toast, and a side of breakfast potatoes (i like mine with basil, salt, pepper, and chives), was a divine remembrance dinner.