By now, I’ve told the story of Eli’s Super Cake at over a dozen events, and hundreds of readers have eaten the cake themselves. More importantly, I have learned that when Eli has a recipe idea, I should just stand back and let him create. He does not approach his baking with the scientific precision of Lisa’s daughter, he just goes for it. And when the batter came together so beautifully, he looked up at me and smiled: “I think I have a knack for this.” I think he really does.
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Yesterday, before we were even awake, the kids made us coffee and themselves French Toast.
Now I can rest assured that they can make breakfast in bed for whatever life partner they choose.
My work here may be done.
4 thick slices cinnamon challah bread
3 eggs
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (we like Penzey’s blend) or to taste
butter for griddle
In a shallow bowl, whisk eggs, sugar, and cinnamon.
Soak bread in egg mixture on both sides.
Heat griddle to medium, then lightly butter and cook bread, turning once, until egg batter is cooked through and bread is very lightly browned.
Serve warm with maple syrup.
Last week, I published a piece in the New York Times about family dinner. More precisely, the piece is about how we don’t have a traditional family dinner in our house–and never really have, in large part because of my husband’s work schedule, but also because of my kids’ activities.More
I used to tease Lisa a bit for her urban homesteading inclinations, her sauce-freezing, fresh popcorn-picking, butter-making ways.
But really, I agreed with her, and wanted to do more — more than making my own bread and ice cream and breakfast cereal and other, eminently-purchasable items.
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One summer when I was a kid, I made it my mission to find the best strawberry ice cream. I ate strawberry ice cream in New York and Connecticut and Massachusetts and New Jersey. I can’t remember which was my favorite, whether it was Haagen-Dazs or Baskin-Robbins or the scoop from the wooden shack on the edge of a cow pasture, but it doesn’t matter: it was the journey, as they say, not the destination.
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