Christmas leftovers, Part I

December 27, 2015

Stuffed French toast? I believe I will.

Stuffed French toast? I believe I will.

Because even though I didn’t cook a big Christmas dinner, I cooked a lot of what I cooked. If that makes sense.

So I’m busily working my way through leftovers.

I’d sworn not to turn on the stove yesterday, and I almost didn’t, but Child C, who had spent the night Christmas night, woke up wondering what was for breakfast. I had not made up waffle batter the night before — though I thought about it — and about that time, I was reading a friend’s Facebook post about stuffed French toast, and I thought, OK, we’ll go there.

So we did. I did not have any challah, my preferred French-toast-making bread, on hand, so I made do with my sandwich bread. And I decided, so the cream cheese would get all melty and gooey, to bake it instead of frying it.

I sliced some bread and stuck it in my 7 x 11 baking dish — that would be enough, I figured, for three people. Whisked up a custard of 3 eggs and about half a cup of cream. Heavy cream. It’s the holidays. Calories don’t count. Poured that over the slices, lifting them so it could get underneath as well. Let them soak while I cut some slices off a partially used block of cream cheese.

Flipped those slices over, layered the cream cheese, and covered it up with more bread. Poured more custard on top of that. Ran out of custard. Whipped up another egg with a few tablespoons of cream. Added that. Probably more custard than I needed, but nothing succeeds like excess, right?

Upon conferring with Self, flipped the sandwiches over in the pan so the other slice of bread could soak up some of that extra custard. Let that sit for about 30 minutes — there’s a reason they tell you to make these things the night before, and I could have done that but for the fact I was so tired I was sleepwalking — and ran it in a 350 oven. Baked it about 20 minutes, then turned the broiler on to crisp up the top.

When the top was nice and brown, I pulled it out and let it set a bit. It had, in fact, soaked up most of the custard in the cooking process.

I nuked some leftover sliced ham, and left it to everyone’s own devices how to top their French toast. I went with apple butter on mine. Quite excellent. A fine day-after-Christmas breakfast, if I did serve it about noon. Oh, well, brunch lasts until 2, right?

That night was another slice of the most excellent ham (Child A got a Honey-Baked Ham from someone who does business with her office, and we served it Christmas, along with country ham and turkey) and a big scoop of potato salad. And it was quite excellent again.

Salad. See, I can be healthy.

Salad. See, I can be healthy.

Today, I came in from church possessed of an idea for yet more leftover ham, but that’s in progress and material for another post. But that won’t be for a while yet, and I was hungry, so I dressed up some of the leftover tossed salad (romaine, cucumbers, tomatoes, feta) with the addition of some chopped turkey and ham and black and green olives. With some of the homemade honey balsamic viniagrette, it made a quite adequate late lunch. Particularly followed by some homemade butter toffee.

Still to come: The ultimate fate of the leftover broccoli and asparagus, as well as what’s happening with some more of that most excellent ham. You ‘n y’mama ‘n ’em are still welcome to come on by and help me enjoy.



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