Breakfast brings families together
The other day my kids asked me what my favorite breakfast food was growing up. I rattled off a few favorites, but what stuck in my mind was my dad’s French Toast. Not so much for the taste, but rather the memory.
My dad was an early riser. Before any of us, he would rise, shower, and splash his infamous Brut aftershave all over himself. And to be honest, I think that is what woke us up. Shall we say he was known to douse himself in his aftershave.
We had a griddle that always kept my dad busy. In the early morning hours he would beat the eggs, add a dash of cinnamon and happily dip the thin slices of bread into the batter.
Sometimes there would be a side of sausage or bacon.
But there was one problem.
Breakfast was ready hours before we even saw the light of day. So by the time we gathered around the table, the sausage had a thin white layer of grease on them. Dad pressed the French Toast slices like a dress shirt—there was no dough left in them. I’m convinced he secretly took the spatula to each piece a hundred times. Trust me. He pressed the darn dough out of all them. They were thinner than crepes.
But we were always thankful. The Aunt Jemima syrup was always on hand to make pools of syrup on our flat bread, I mean French Toast.
Dad was an early riser. We all knew that. Maybe he learned it from his dad back in the Greek village by the Ionian Sea.
There was no griddle, but I bet there was some sort of breakfast morning ritual that his dad did for his kids. Times were tough for my dad growing up. War was in his childhood, so fond memories were not always pleasant. But he was always grateful. He never wasted food.
Dad taught us to do the same. So we always gathered around the breakfast table and happily ate his French Toast. It wasn’t until years after his passing that my siblings and I made a crack about his French Toast. The whole memory left us laughing and smiling for quite some time. And now it especially comes up as we gather for the holidays with our families.
Perhaps dad knew all along what he was doing when he pressed down on that spatula. Creating memories of a lifetime.
Fooducopia loves bringing families together—especially during the holidays. We hope you join us at the corner of Kentucky and Race Avenue at Wash Park restaurant Fooducopia to enjoy good honest food with your families. Don’t worry we don’t allow Chef Richard too much time with the spatula.