Strawberries and Cream Stuffed French Toast

First week of classes. New students. New faces. The same old books, but the books are never the same because the readers are different, and a book is only half itself — the other half is the person reading it. This year's juniors are cautious, which is typical. They don't trust me yet. They don't know that I am the best thing that will happen to them this year, which is not arrogance, it is data — thirty-eight years of students who come back and tell me so. They'll figure it out. They always do.

I assigned The Catcher in the Rye, which I have taught every year since 1979 and which never fails to divide a room into those who see themselves in Holden and those who want to shake him. I love this division. I live for this division. Literature that doesn't divide a room isn't doing its job.

At home, the cooking continues. I made matzah brei for dinner on Wednesday, which is technically a breakfast food but rules are for people who lack creativity. Matzah brei is the Ashkenazi equivalent of French toast — broken matzah soaked in egg, fried in butter until golden, served with sour cream or applesauce depending on which side of the sweet-savory debate you stand on. I stand on both sides. I serve both. Marvin stands on the sour cream side. He is wrong, but he has been wrong on this particular issue for thirty-four years and I have stopped trying to correct him because there are battles worth fighting and matzah brei condiment preference is not among them.

Rebecca called to tell me she's presenting a paper at a conference in Chicago. She sounded nervous, which is rare for Rebecca, who inherited Sylvia's confidence and my vocabulary and is generally terrifying in academic settings. I told her what I tell my students before oral presentations: "Know your material, look at the audience, and remember that you are smarter than everyone in the room." She said, "What if I'm not?" I said, "You're a Rosen woman. You are." This is not objectivity. This is maternal theology.

The blog is humming along. I wrote about matzah brei this week — about how some foods exist outside of their designated time, how matzah brei doesn't care that it's not Passover, and neither do I, because hunger and comfort operate on their own calendar. A reader named Susan wrote that she made it for her kids and they loved it. Another generation eating matzah brei on a random Wednesday. The chain holds in unexpected ways.

I told you that matzah brei is the Ashkenazi equivalent of French toast, and I meant it — broken matzah soaked in egg, fried in butter until the edges go golden and the kitchen smells like a memory. Since this list gave me a French toast and not a matzah brei, I am treating that as the universe agreeing with my thesis. Strawberries and Cream Stuffed French Toast is matzah brei’s more extravagant cousin: same egg-soaked logic, same butter-in-the-pan confidence, but dressed up for a conference presentation rather than a Wednesday dinner. Rebecca, this one’s for you — you’re already the cream cheese filling in a room full of plain bread.

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

Ingredients

8 thick slices brioche or Texas toast bread
4 oz cream cheese, softened
2 tablespoons powdered sugar, plus more for serving
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and thinly sliced
3 large eggs
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, for the pan
Maple syrup and extra strawberries, for serving

Instructions

Make the filling. In a small bowl, beat together the softened cream cheese, powdered sugar, and vanilla extract until smooth and spreadable.
Assemble the sandwiches. Spread the cream cheese mixture generously on one side of four bread slices. Layer sliced strawberries over the cream cheese, then press the remaining four bread slices on top to form four stuffed sandwiches.
Prepare the egg mixture. In a shallow bowl or baking dish, whisk together the eggs, milk, cinnamon, and granulated sugar until fully combined.
Soak the sandwiches. Working one at a time, dip each stuffed sandwich into the egg mixture, letting each side soak for about 20–30 seconds so the bread absorbs the custard without falling apart.
Cook until golden. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in a large skillet or griddle over medium heat. Add two sandwiches and cook for 3–4 minutes per side, until deeply golden and cooked through. Repeat with remaining butter and sandwiches.
Serve immediately. Dust with powdered sugar, top with fresh strawberries, and drizzle with maple syrup. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Strawberries and Cream Stuffed French Toast — The Ashkenazi Cousin Who Married Well