By Mother's Day is Sunday and I wasn't supposed to go home this weekend — it's a DeKalb weekend, the deal I made with myself — but you don't skip Mother's Day when your mother is Patty Kowalczyk, because Patty Kowalczyk remembers everything, forgives most things, but will bring up a missed Mother's Day at Thanksgiving in 2047. So I drove home.
I made Mom a brunch. This is ambitious for a person whose kitchen is a hot plate and a mini fridge, but I prepped what I could in the dorm and finished at home. Baked French toast casserole — you tear up day-old bread, soak it in eggs and milk and cinnamon and a little vanilla overnight, then bake it in the morning. Total cost: under three dollars if you buy the bread on the day-old rack, which I always do because day-old bread is just bread that had a longer life before it met eggs. I also made a fruit salad with whatever was on sale. Strawberries this week, $1.29 a pound. Mom cried, which is what Mom does when her children do something thoughtful, and then she organized the cleanup before anyone had finished eating, which is what Mom does after she cries.
Dad gave Mom a card that said something generic and a gift card to Kohl's, because Steve Kowalczyk expresses love through functional gifts and Patty expresses appreciation by immediately planning what she'll buy. They've been married thirty-one years. It works.
I didn't see Jess this trip. I texted her Happy Mother's Day for Mrs. Papalardo and she sent back a thumbs up. A thumbs up. I stared at it for a while, trying to decode whether a thumbs up from a heroin addict who was crying on the phone ten days ago is good or bad. It's a thumbs up. It's a tiny yellow hand pointing at the sky. It means nothing and it means everything and I need to stop reading emoji like tea leaves.
Finals start next week. I should be studying. I am studying — I'm in the library every night until it closes, buried in case studies about behavioral interventions and IEP development, and I love it in a way that surprises me still, the way the theory clicks into place when I think about real kids, real classrooms, real Mrs. Delgados doing the work every day. I'm going to be a teacher. That's the one thing I'm sure of. Everything else is static, but that signal comes through clean.
This is the recipe — or close enough to the spirit of it. Banana Bread French Toast does exactly what I needed it to do that morning: it uses day-old bread (always buy the day-old bread), it soaks overnight so there’s nothing to panic about in the morning, and it comes out of the oven warm and a little custardy and smelling like cinnamon and something good is happening. If you’re making brunch for someone who deserves more than you can currently afford to give them, this is the recipe. It made Patty Kowalczyk cry. That’s my benchmark now.
Banana Bread French Toast
Prep Time: 15 minutes + overnight soak | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour (plus overnight) | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 loaf day-old banana bread (store-bought or homemade), cut into 1-inch slices
- 4 large eggs
- 1 cup whole milk
- 1/4 cup heavy cream
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- Pinch of salt
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, for greasing and dotting
- Powdered sugar, for serving
- Maple syrup, for serving
Instructions
- Prep the baking dish. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with butter. Arrange the banana bread slices in a single overlapping layer across the dish.
- Make the custard. In a large bowl or measuring cup, whisk together the eggs, milk, heavy cream, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt until fully combined.
- Soak overnight. Pour the custard evenly over the banana bread slices, pressing gently so each piece absorbs the liquid. Cover the dish with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight.
- Preheat and prep. When ready to bake, preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Remove the dish from the refrigerator and let it sit at room temperature for 15 minutes. Dot the top with small pieces of butter.
- Bake. Bake uncovered for 40–45 minutes, until the top is golden brown and the custard is set in the center. A knife inserted in the middle should come out clean.
- Serve. Let rest for 5 minutes before serving. Dust with powdered sugar and serve with warm maple syrup alongside a fruit salad if you’re feeling ambitious (strawberries, $1.29 a pound when they’re in season).
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 280mg