french toast

As I was popping my frozen pieces of french toast in the toaster this morning, that Reagan and I had bought from Trader Joes last night, I thought of my Dad.

My Dad was famous for his cinnamon french toast, or famous to me anyway....

He'd get up really early before anyone was up to get started on breakfast. I swear the French toast was a good few hours old. But it still tasted perfect. He had it down to a science and could actually keep them warm until we all rolled out of bed at the lake or at home. He mainly cooked his french toast up north. A few years back I came across this platter with a cover at Crate & Barrell that was suppose to keep your french toast, pancakes, etc warm while you cooked the rest of them. I immediately thought about my Dad when I saw it and I had planned to purchase it for the following Father's Day or his Birthday. Then go figure- I couldn't find it then. I thought it would be the perfect gift for him. I'm so bummed to this day that I never as able to give that to him.

My Dad loved to cooked, especially breakfast. And what was most interesting is that I rarely saw him eat the breakfast he made himself. Once or twice maybe. I think he'd have his cereal and banana before everyone else woke up, and then left the good breakfast for his family and friends.
It was never about him.

Who would have thought this cinnamon french toast would become so important to me in my adult life. I always appreciated the fact that my Dad cooked and made us special breakfasts and have watched my Dad for many years make it for my Mom...even down here in Cincinnati. She'd sleep in a little and come down in her robe..Dad was already showered and dressed, coffee was on and he'd hand her a plated breakfast. He was pretty good like that.

I really miss you Dad. I'm so sad your not here.