Then my heart dropped as he told me the story of how he used to make it in college. Adorable occasionally-bordering-on-health-nut that he is, his toast recipe was as follows: Whole grain wheat bread (goat food, as I call it), egg whites and nonfat milk (I cringed), honey to top it (I acquiesced), and cooked in - I shit you not - olive oil.
We almost broke up then and there. Not really, he's great, but still my heart sank.
Then I decided that education is the best recourse, and instead of punishing, I cooked. I educated. Four years later and he laughs at his sad college toast - though it was with a self-effacing grin that he ever told me the story in the first place; that toast was never a point of pride, more a dark hole in an otherwise fine venture into healthy eating.
So I showed him. French toast made with Hawaiian bread is the best toast. Nope, I don't want to hear it, best toast.
King's Hawaiian bread (obviously, king of breads) is already sweet and delicious, things you want the best french toast to be. This isn't health food, just know that. French toast is basically custard in a gluten shell, you can't church that up into something good for you, and any attempts to do so render it sad and nothing like the glorious manna it truly should be.
Hawaiian bread. Whole eggs. Half-and-half (heavy cream if you're feeling decadent). Cooked in butter. Always cooked in butter. No arguments! If you're going with syrup, real maple. Don't lovingly craft a bit of food porn only to drown it in gloopy, corn-syrupy, fakey sludge. Spices! Spice your egg dip.
A bit of culinary history - french toast, known as pain perdu in its native country, is essentially bread pudding. Used with leftover stale bread (pain perdu means "lost [or forgotten] bread"), the eggy dip is sopped up and makes it moist again. Using stale bread is, I would argue, essential - it ensures that the bread retains its structure even when absolutely dripping with proto-custard. Still, handle with care. To stale up your bread, slice it, lay in a single layer, and stash in the fridge overnight. If it's still too moist, you can toast it a bit to firm it up, but stale bread is the best bread for it.
To serve 4 people, use 6 eggs. Crack them into a large bowl with a flat bottom (for bread soaking) and whisk until the yolks and whites are combined. For a more decadent french toast, swap out one whole egg for two egg yolks, but I personally like the lightness lent by the whites. Add 2-3 tbsp of half-and-half - you can use a flavored one if you're feelin' frisky - along with spices. My dad - who first conceived this recipe which is ALWAYS served EVERY Mother's Day - favors vanilla coffee creamer. I like freshly grated nutmeg and cinnamon, but then again, Alton Brown is my spirit animal.
Whisk it together, and stick some sliced bread in there while the pan heats over medium. Let the bread soak for about 30-60 seconds, add butter to the pan, and flip the bread to soak on the other side. Once the butter has melted, and the bread is soaked through, place it in the pan and fry on each side until golden brown. While one batch is cooking, stick the next round of bread in the egg mixture (I usually do this after the first flip). Et voilà, pain perdu!
I top mine with mashed frozen mixed berries, slightly thawed so that they aren't hard but still nice and cool on that hot, toasty goodness. Lord Almighty, I am getting overwhelmed ... where's my skillet?!
À bientôt, mes amies - enjoy your "forgotten bread"!
