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Chocolate French Toast — The Cake That Couldn’t Wait Until Candles

Tommy's birthday — thirty-seven on April 22nd. The number means: I'm closer to forty than to thirty-five, and forty is the hill, and I can see the hill, and the hill doesn't look as scary as it did from thirty. From thirty-seven, the hill looks like a pit — a brick pit, built by hand, patched twice, cracked three times, still cooking better than anything you can buy.

Fifty-pound boil. Mama drove up (Pierre drove). The cake: chocolate, same frosting, same handwriting. The number of candles: thirty-seven, which took Colette five minutes to light because the wind kept blowing them out and Colette takes candle-lighting as seriously as she takes everything else, which is: very.

Danielle's toast (she gives a toast every year now, standing in the driveway with a beer in her hand, and it's become a tradition within the tradition): "To Tommy. Who builds things. Pits, businesses, families. Who stirs the roux and doesn't stop. Who lost his daddy and became a better one. Who survived the water and feeds everyone who didn't. To Tommy. Happy birthday, cher." She said it, and the driveway clapped, and I didn't cry because I was holding crawfish and you can't cry and hold crawfish simultaneously. (You can. I did. The crawfish didn't judge.)

The cake comes out the same every year — same chocolate, same frosting, same handwriting in Colette’s careful cursive — and that sameness is the whole point. The next morning, when the pit is cold and the driveway is quiet and it’s just me and the leftovers of a night I’ll carry for a long time, I make this Chocolate French Toast. It’s the only thing that feels like an extension of the cake — like the birthday didn’t have to end just because the candles went out.

Chocolate French Toast

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 8 thick slices brioche or Texas toast bread
  • 3 large eggs
  • 1/2 cup whole milk
  • 3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
  • Pinch of salt
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
  • Powdered sugar, for serving
  • Fresh berries or sliced banana, for serving
  • Maple syrup or chocolate syrup, for serving

Instructions

  1. Make the batter. In a wide, shallow bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, cocoa powder, granulated sugar, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and salt until smooth and fully combined with no dry cocoa streaks remaining.
  2. Heat the pan. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in a large skillet or griddle over medium heat. Swirl to coat the pan evenly and let it heat until just foamy.
  3. Dip the bread. Working in batches, dip each slice of bread into the chocolate egg mixture, letting it soak for about 20–30 seconds per side so the batter fully saturates the bread without making it soggy.
  4. Cook the first batch. Place dipped slices in the hot skillet without crowding. Cook for 2–3 minutes per side until each slice is set, lightly crisp on the outside, and cooked through. Adjust heat as needed to prevent burning.
  5. Cook remaining slices. Add the remaining tablespoon of butter and repeat with the second batch of bread slices.
  6. Serve warm. Plate the Chocolate French Toast and dust generously with powdered sugar. Serve with fresh berries or banana slices and a drizzle of maple syrup or chocolate syrup.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg

Tommy Beaumont
About the cook who shared this
Tommy Beaumont
Week 148 of Tommy’s 30-year story · Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Tommy is a Cajun electrician from Thibodaux, Louisiana, who lost his home to Hurricane Katrina four months after his wedding and rebuilt his life one roux at a time. He grew up on Bayou Lafourche, fishing with his father Joey at dawn and eating his mother's gumbo by dusk. His crawfish boils draw the whole neighborhood, his boudin is made from scratch, and he stirs his roux the way Joey taught him — dark as chocolate, forty-five minutes, no shortcuts. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

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