A disinclination to leave well enough alone may be my greatest strength as a cook. It is also probably my greatest weakness. Compulsive adding sometimes improves, sometimes it detracts.
My dad was one of four children to have grown up in Liverpool, United Kingdom. Saturday morning breakfast consisted of the end crusts from the week's bread cooked in milk with a little sugar. My brain refuses to cough up what the family called this concoction, so I'll just call it "milk toast". (I don't know if my grandmother toasted the bread or not.) I had this once or twice on visits to my grandparents. As far as I can remember, we never had it at home.
But, the once or twice I had it as a kid left a powerful impression of warmth, sweetness, and carb-y happiness. Perhaps a dozen times as an adult, I have made this milk toast as best as I can remember it.
Tonight found me in A Mood. I was feeling deeply frustrated with my inability to move forward on some projects, or even find time to try. As I surveyed my kitchen, I spotted the leftover bagels on the counter and thought of milk toast.
I cut two bagels (about 4 or 5 inches in diameter) into bite size chunks and threw them into a small pan. I was going to grab the milk when my inability to leave well enough alone kicked in. Before I added the milk, I threw in a couple of dollops of part-skim ricotta cheese I had from something I never made. I then added enough milk to cover the bread. For sweetener, I used a tablespoon or two of real maple syrup I'd purchased with a Christmas gift certificate from my boss. I heated the concoction until it had been barely bubbly around the edges for just a few minutes.
My friends, on this particular evening, my ramped-up milk toast fit the definition of "comfort food" for me like a key fits a lock. The bagels maintained some structure as sandwich bread would not. The cheesed added just a bit of creaminess to the skim milk. The sweetness from the maple syrup was absolutely perfect.
This was one of those times when not leaving well enough alone paid wonderfully warm dividends.
Where I'm from we have something called breakfast rice that gives me the same warm fuzzy feelings you get from milk toast. It's just leftover rice, butter, & sugar. Brown sugar & cinnamon if my Great-Grammy thought we need something extra warm. Definitely the ultimate in comfort food for me and never fails to make me feel warm in my tummy & in my heart. :)
ReplyDeleteThat sounds a lot like "pain perdu" (literally, "lost bread"). It's a kissing cousin to "French toast".
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