Post by TinMan on Oct 2, 2014 22:26:20 GMT -5
Yes, that's right...I'll admit it...I need a good French Toast recipe!!
So the other day my better half...who will henceforth be known as Rip Van Winkle, or RVW for expediency's sake, slept in...<gasp> I know...that is cruel and unusual punishment...but even in the face of such adversity, I remained strong...so when my oldest came up to me and said, "I'm hungry!!" I knew there was only one thing I could do.
But apparently Pizza Hut doesn't do breakfast...nor do they deliver in my area...something about rednecks trying to do a dine and dash...But who knows with those goobers.
Well, it was decided, I'd have to saddle up the Ford, go into town and buy some vittles.
But my oldest informed me with a resounding, "Nuh uhhhh" that wasn't what she wanted...
"Well just what do you want?" I queried. I had one foot in a boot, the other half way in and keys already in my pocket...it was a committed state I was in...So oldest looks at me sand say, "I want you to cook something."
The child was deranged...Must be...When has she ever seen me cook anything other than cookies? I mean, I make a mean bowl of cereal on demand, but when offered that she insisted that it be something cooked...and not just something poured into a bowl with milk over it
So I offered eggs...Eggs are pretty hard to mess up...you crack'em...dig as much of the shell out as you can...whip them about for a bit...throw them into some form of cookery...let'em sit...mess with them a bit more...voila!! Done!!
Well, having gone through my entire repertoire of things I could think to cook (eggs)...I asked her what she wanted...
"French Toast." Was the decisive reply.
I'll spare y'all further details of this epic tale (to save me further embarrassment), but to summarize...the dogs are now sick to their stomachs, the kitchen has a burnt odor to it, we're out of butter, down to one slice of bread and RVW has forbidden me from ever using her good dishes again.
But I shall not admit defeat...so...any help offered is appreciated.
So the other day my better half...who will henceforth be known as Rip Van Winkle, or RVW for expediency's sake, slept in...<gasp> I know...that is cruel and unusual punishment...but even in the face of such adversity, I remained strong...so when my oldest came up to me and said, "I'm hungry!!" I knew there was only one thing I could do.
But apparently Pizza Hut doesn't do breakfast...nor do they deliver in my area...something about rednecks trying to do a dine and dash...But who knows with those goobers.
Well, it was decided, I'd have to saddle up the Ford, go into town and buy some vittles.
But my oldest informed me with a resounding, "Nuh uhhhh" that wasn't what she wanted...
"Well just what do you want?" I queried. I had one foot in a boot, the other half way in and keys already in my pocket...it was a committed state I was in...So oldest looks at me sand say, "I want you to cook something."
The child was deranged...Must be...When has she ever seen me cook anything other than cookies? I mean, I make a mean bowl of cereal on demand, but when offered that she insisted that it be something cooked...and not just something poured into a bowl with milk over it
So I offered eggs...Eggs are pretty hard to mess up...you crack'em...dig as much of the shell out as you can...whip them about for a bit...throw them into some form of cookery...let'em sit...mess with them a bit more...voila!! Done!!
Well, having gone through my entire repertoire of things I could think to cook (eggs)...I asked her what she wanted...
"French Toast." Was the decisive reply.
I'll spare y'all further details of this epic tale (to save me further embarrassment), but to summarize...the dogs are now sick to their stomachs, the kitchen has a burnt odor to it, we're out of butter, down to one slice of bread and RVW has forbidden me from ever using her good dishes again.
But I shall not admit defeat...so...any help offered is appreciated.