This morning I woke up to a beautiful sunny Sunday feeling abnormally domestic. I decided to introduce Willa to one of my favorite family recipes, Zola's French Toast. My grandma (Zola) always made this one especially for me when I slept over, which must have been at least once a week as a child. I vividly remember the sweet smell, the sizzling sound, the way my grandma moved gracefully about her kitchen in her nightgown, as she tirelessly indulged my queenly requests. I would watch patiently as she turned the toast with a fork until each side was perfectly golden. She would then place it on a pretty plate and dust it with powdered sugar. I routinely asked for an additional sprinkling. And she routinely obliged. There was no doubt then, nor is there now, that I was her girl. And last, but not least, she carefully cut it up into little bite-sized squares. And I was in heaven.
This type of pan-fried, sugary meal is not a common occurrence on our table. But somehow this regular Sunday morning felt special to me. And in the name of tradition, we indulged.
Zola's French Toast
1 egg
1/2 cup milk
2 teaspoons sugar
dash of cinnamon
2 slices of plain white bread
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1 egg
1/2 cup milk
2 teaspoons sugar
dash of cinnamon
2 slices of plain white bread
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup powdered sugar
In a shallow dish (a Pyrex pie plate works well), lightly beat an egg. Then add milk, sugar, and cinnamon. Stir just enough to mix. Place bread in mixture. Using a fork, flip the bread a few times, to evenly coat both sides. Melt butter in a skillet over low heat. Fry the toast to a golden brown on both sides. Place it on a pretty plate. Sprinkle with powdered sugar. Cut into bite-sized squares. Serve.
