Snow days can be fattening...

Maybe that seems obvious but I’ve always been possessed with a good, keen sense of the obvious. I’m not sure it’s really a marketable skill but my real estate clients seem to like it. For example, if I’m in a house that smells strongly of cigarette smoke or cat pee, I usually point it out. I just like to be sure that everybody’s on the same page.

Anyway, it probably seems obvious to most people that snow days have the potential to be highly caloric. Especially, if you live with a 14-year old who aspires to have a reputation for being a good cook. That’s one of the things I really love about my daughter (again with the keen sense of the obvious --who doesn’t love their daughter!) but Mary Rollins doesn’t say, “when I grow up I want to be a professional chef,” she just says, “I want people to think that I bake well.” And, let me tell you, she really does bake well. And certainly, there are worse reputations one could have!

The French Toast Source and a
fun read!

As I already reported in on the superiorness of last snow day’s delicious waffles, today was French toast. Not just any French Toast, but cinnamon swirl French Toast adapted from a recipe in a delightful little book called, The Homemade Life – one of Isabug’s favorite books – that I recently started carrying with me to doctor waiting rooms that might have a poor selection of magazines.

On a side note, someone asked me recently what good books I’d read lately and the first thing that popped into my head was The Complete Magnolia Bakery Cookbook. It makes me think that I have indeed become a true Mathews – a family known for its serious devotion to food. In fact, my mother-in-law used to write us long letters from Florida about recent meals she’d eaten. Long before The Food Network, these people were foodies. Williamsons on the other hand seem to like to eat but really don’t have a relationship with their food.

Our morning French Toast was, to use a French word, incroyable! Heavy with soaked in egg-y goodness but fried up crispy in at least a tablespoon full of swirled around canola oil. And, that my friends was the secret – not stingily spraying the pan with Pam but generously committing to a full out frying of the bread. Even with some blackened edges this French Toast was superb topped with butter and syrup (or doused liberally with confectioner’s sugar a la Will).

Thank goodness I managed to run a few treadmill miles this morning because I can’t wait for lunch!