First off, my apologies; I didn’t take that many pictures! I guess I was so caught up in making the damn dish, I forgot. I promise I won’t make the same mistake next week! There will be some video of the process coming tomorrow though. And without further ado…
I cracked open my two eggs in a bowl large enough to dip the bread in later. Tossed in a dash of cinnamon, a teaspoonish thing of sugar… and of course, a cup of some good old chocolate milk (I feel like a kid!). Now that I think about it… was the sugar really necessary with all of that chocolate milk? Whatever.
Using my trusty fork, I beat that pile of mess into submission.
Heating up the pan on medium for a minute or two!
Now let’s throw some whipped butter into that pan! That’ll give the french toast a little more taste, I think… and it’ll grease that sucker.
Aaaaand here’s where the rest of my post gets boring. I’ve got no more pictures! I swear I’ll do better next time, and if I don’t, complain in the comments! Or shoot me a nasty email.
Afterwards, I dipped my old wheat bread into the mixture, fully coating both sides, turning it into some mud-caked monstrosity. Then, with chocolate goo drizzling all over the countertop, I apprehensively dropped it into the pan.
Sizzle, sizzle! I couldn’t tell if that noise was the toast being cooked or if it was hissing at me, begging me to end its hideous life before it transformed into something that looked like it came out of Frankenstein’s lab. I let that sit for 2-3 minutes on one side and flipped it over to the other side for about 2 more minutes.
Repeat for the other slices.
How does it look? Find out tomorrow. As the philosophical Kanye West once asked, “So what we gonna have, dessert or disaster?”