French Toast.
Panettone - the large, domed, bread-like cakes filled with dried fruit - are everywhere during the holiday season in Italy. Stacked like precarious castles in the grocery store or swinging from Italians' hands as they stroll down the street, they are as much a part of the festive season as Christmas lights (and you should see how far they go with lights here). I was given one, or should I say re-gifted one, when some friends left, and it's a lot to take on alone. Very tasty, but really quite huge.
I sliced into it on Christmas morning and spread it with butter (I prefer to slot it into the 'bread' category, not cake, therefore justifying the extra fat) but only managed to get through about 1/16 of it. Solid effort Anderson, but not good enough.
This morning I put a serious hurtin' on it by making French toast. Now a few days old and ever so slightly stale, the large wedges of Panettone were perfect for soaking up milk and eggs and fried up beautifully golden in butter.
I also used some of Naama's leftover Challah, then drizzled it all with the vanilla bean-infused maple syrup that Linds brought me from Vancouver.
There you go, French toast made with Italian and Jewish bread and covered in Canadian sugar. Comfort breakfast at its finest.
Panettone - the large, domed, bread-like cakes filled with dried fruit - are everywhere during the holiday season in Italy. Stacked like precarious castles in the grocery store or swinging from Italians' hands as they stroll down the street, they are as much a part of the festive season as Christmas lights (and you should see how far they go with lights here). I was given one, or should I say re-gifted one, when some friends left, and it's a lot to take on alone. Very tasty, but really quite huge.
I sliced into it on Christmas morning and spread it with butter (I prefer to slot it into the 'bread' category, not cake, therefore justifying the extra fat) but only managed to get through about 1/16 of it. Solid effort Anderson, but not good enough.
This morning I put a serious hurtin' on it by making French toast. Now a few days old and ever so slightly stale, the large wedges of Panettone were perfect for soaking up milk and eggs and fried up beautifully golden in butter.
I also used some of Naama's leftover Challah, then drizzled it all with the vanilla bean-infused maple syrup that Linds brought me from Vancouver.
There you go, French toast made with Italian and Jewish bread and covered in Canadian sugar. Comfort breakfast at its finest.
French toast is one of the unsung hero's of the food universe! This looks delicious. Anyhow, its been a long time and I hope all is well. Let me know if you ever find yourself in Chicago, because the food here is spectacular and I'd be glad to prove it to you.
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