Butter Me Up - Fresh Homemade Butter

Fresh creamy butter. Preferably unsalted, or with a soupçon to bring the rich flavour to life. Spread over hot hot hot toast, just the right shade of brown and satisfyingly thick. Each bite an audible crunch, crumbs flying everywhere but on the plate. Is there anything more gloriously simple than homemade butter?

I have been inspired of late to try my hand at making things that I used to buy off the shelf.  Barbara Kingsolver's Animal Vegetable Miracle is chock full of inspiration for everything from cheese making to raising chickens. And while I have yet to make yogurt,  Daniel Patterson's journey to make fresh butter seemed too easy to ignore.  

Fresh Homemade Butter

yields about 2 lbs of butter, plus approx 2 cups of buttermilk

Start with 6 cups of high quality organic 35% cream.  I use  Harmony Organic, a local producer whose cream is so thick that there's always a big dollop at the top of the bottle.

Put the cream in a bowl for a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment.  Cover the top of the bowl with plastic wrap.  Whip on speed 6 for a Kitchen Aid mixer (or medium high), for 10 to 15 minutes. 

As the cream passes the "whipped" state, it will start to separate and form liquid. At the point where liquid from the bowl starts splashing against the plastic wrap, and the cream becomes pale yellow and pebbly, turn off the mixer - you're almost done.

Strain the solids, catching the liquid in a bowl, and leave them in the strainer. That liquid is fresh buttermilk! Get out your favourite scone or soup recipe.   Restrain the buttermilk with a fine mesh sieve and set it aside.  You'll add more to this cache of rich goodness in a few minutes.

 

Knead the solids over a bowl, expelling and capturing any remaining liquid.  Continue kneading, for about five minutes, or until the butter is dense, creamy and smooth.  If you prefer salted butter, at this stage, add a ½ tsp of fine sea salt, and knead until incorporated throughout.  Strain the remaining liquid through a fine mesh sieve and add to your reserved buttermilk cache.  Place the buttermilk in a clean container and pop it in the fridge to get icy cold.

  

Smooth the butter into a container with an airtight lid.  And there you have it - simple, delicious butter, ready to be used and enjoyed. 

It gives a whole new meaning to whipping something up in the kitchen...

Nutty about Nutella - Zucchini Nutella Bread

I know, I know, I'm late.  The foodie blogosphere has been rife with Nutella recipes, in celebration of World Nutella Day (yes, really). I spread the gospel according to Ferraro and bought everyone at the office a jar of Nutella on February 5 to honour the day. 

And of course I rifled through the dozens of recipes on the official World Nutella Day site. It's been years since I bought Nutella, and truth be told, the easiest recipe I know is: take spoon; dip in jar; lick. To get a little more complex, one can also peel a banana and spread copious amounts of Nutella on that.

I’ve progressed on the culinary front since those days, and so I thought I’d try something new. A recipe for chocolate zucchini bread caught my eye, and it seemed like a good cross between delicious and nutritious. I dug out my own tattered recipe card with my zucchini bread recipe, compared notes and came up with this creation.  I may be late for World Nutella Day, but this would make a pretty spiffy Valentine's Day breakfast on Sunday morning...

Liz’s Zucchini Nutella Bread
makes two loaves

3 cups unbleached all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tbsp cinnamon
3 eggs
1½ cup granulated sugar
1 c. vegetable oil
2 tsp vanilla
2 cups shredded zucchini
1 tbsp grated lemon zest (use Meyer lemons if available)
½ cup (or more) Nutella chocolate chips (see Notes)
⅓ cup toasted hazelnuts, chopped (see Notes)
6 tsp Nutella

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.

2. Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon and set aside. Grate the zucchini and set aside.

3. Beat eggs lightly in a large bowl; stir in sugar, oil, zucchini, lemon rind and vanilla.

4. Using a wooden spoon, fold in flour mixture until just combined. Stir in hazelnuts.

5. Divide batter between 2 greased loaf pans. Push several Nutella chips into the batter randomly (see Note).  Place 3 tsp of Nutella on top of the batter in each pan, and swirl across the top with a fork. Place into a 350 degree oven.

8. Bake for 50-60 minutes until top is spring and a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Cool before slicing.

Notes

Nutella Chocolate Chips: No, you haven’t missed a newsflash. Nutella doesn’t make chocolate chips. But I wanted that creamy Nutella taste throughout the bread and not just on top. So I put dabs of Nutella on waxed paper on a baking sheet, popped the sheet into the oven until I needed them and – voila – Nutella "chocolate chips"!

Hazelnuts: Toasting hazelnuts is not a straightforward thing.  It's made complicated by the fact that you need to rub the skins off after toasting, and that isn't always easy. You may need to toast more than you'll need; depending on the freshness of the nuts, the skins can be pesky, but don't give up!

Variation: Zucchini Walnut Bread with Pineapple
makes two loaves

Follow the recipe above and substitute ½ c. coarsely chopped walnuts instead of the hazelnuts.  Add one can of drained crushed pineapple and stir gently just before transferring batter to the pans. This recipe does not use Nutella.

If all else fails, you don't need a recipe to grab a spoon…

Tools of the Trade - The Spurtle

 

I'm a late bloomer when it comes to oatmeal.  Funny thing that - I love all things creamy.  Rice pudding, tapioca and my childhood favourite -
Cream of Wheat.

That's what I had when everyone else at the table was eating polenta, which I decidedly didn't like.  It was one of the few eating quirks I had and so my mother obliged.  Made easier by the fact that my sister didn't - and still won't - eat red tomatoes or garlic.  It was way more complicated for my mother to make lasagna, gnocchi and pizza without tomato sauce than it was for her to make up a pot of Cream of Wheat for me.  I never imagined Cream of Wheat with brown sugar instead of the parmigiano cheese I so generously sprinkled into my bowl.  So naturally oatmeal, Cream of Wheat’s first cousin, never struck me as being particularly breakfast-like.  

And then I discovered steel cut oats.  They were Cream of Wheat with a crunch.  Nutty, delicious and healthy to boot.

McCann’s became an instant staple in the kitchen.  I've already shared my recipe for overnight steel cut oatmeal with apples, but when the weekend rolls around, I don't mind spending the 30 minutes or so it takes to stir up a freshly made pot of oatmeal.

The fundamental challenge with steel cut oats is the "stick" factor.  No matter how low the heat, or how constant the stirring, there always seems to be a tipping point when the bottom of the pot becomes a mess 'o oats.  Enter the spurtle.
           
Dating from the 15th century, the spurtle is a kitchen utensil whose sole and express raison d’être is to stir oatmeal. Simple, elegant, and exactly right for what it is meant to do, my spurtle is all the more loved because its design hasn't changed for hundreds of years.  As I stir the oatmeal lazily and sip my coffee, I'm connected to an ancient cooking ritual.

Tips for Perfect Steel Cut Oats

Bring 4 cups salted water to a firm boil  and add 1 cup steel cut oatmeal.  Let the oatmeal simmer briskly for five minutes before lowering the heat.  Cook and stir for 30 to 40 minutes until creamy but with a bit of a bite (think pasta al dente).  I'm still a bit of a purist - no brown sugar for me - but marcona almonds add a decadent touch to a perfectly wholesome breakfast.

The Sunshine State - Winter Citrus Salad

Eating seasonal and local is a good thing. Really it is. Except when you live in a cold climate and the winter months drag along. Cabbages, parsnips and potatoes may be all very well and good, but a little sunshine goes a long way to making winter bearable.

That’s why I can’t give up citrus fruits. Sunny, squeezable, and completely satisfying, all things citrus make me happy. And although oranges are available all year round, there are still a few varieties that appear for just a few short weeks. Clementines, blood oranges, Minneola tangerines, Ruby Red grapefruits (which also make a fantastic sorbet), Seville oranges, Meyer lemons – I want to buy them by the bagful.

The easiest way I know to get a fix of all my favourites is in one big citrus salad. I’ll add the seeds of a big knobby pomegranate, another fleeting visitor in the produce department.



I’ll toss the segments with a very special dressing, and enjoy a bowl of Florida sunshine at breakfast all week long.



Winter Citrus Salad
serves four-six

2 lbs assorted citrus fruit, about 6 or 7 (Ruby Red grapefruit, Seville oranges, Meyer lemons*, tangerines, etc)
1 pomegranate, seeded
2 tbsp orange juice
1 tbsp Pama liqueur
1 tsp honey

1.  Peel the citrus fruits, and remove as much of the white pith as possible.  Cut each fruit in half and dice into 1-inch pieces. Try to catch the extra juice that results.

2. Seed the pomegranate and add to the citrus fruit. Set aside.

3. To prepare dressing, combine orange juice, Pama liqueur and honey in a small bowl.  Whisk until the honey is dissolved.

4.  Pour over salad and gently toss to combine. Serve or refrigerate until ready to serve.

*Meyer lemons are much sweeter than regular lemons; if they're not available, add another orange or tangerine instead.

18 Carrot Crunch

I'm suspicious of bagged vegetables. Especially bagged vegetables that are uniformly perfect in size shape and colour. The disillusionment began when I discovered that bagged baby carrots – so cute! so convenient! were actually big old misshapen carrots that had been cut down to size. Although an easy snack, they are strangely flavourless, tasting more waterlogged than super-charged with beta carotene goodness.

That’s why I love Vicki’s Veggies. The vegetables are gorgeously ugly - just as nature intended them to be. More importantly, they’re fantastically sweet. I can’t resist buying them by the bagful at the farmers’ market on Saturday mornings, especially since Vicki herself is so passionate about every single thing she sells. The problem is I can’t consume everything as quickly as I’d like, particularly when flying solo.


Enter my magnificent Liebherr fridge. With an amazing Bio-Fresh drawer, my produce stays fresher way longer. Long enough for me to rescue a bag of Vicki’s real baby carrots just in time.

Crunchy never tasted so good.

Glazed Baby Carrots
serves two generously

1 lb baby carrots, washed with a soft brush, and trimmed
2 tbsp rendered duck fat
1 large shallot, finely chopped
Salt to taste
2 tbsp Madeira

1. Heat the duck fat over medium-low heat in a heavy pot.  Add the shallots and cook until softened but not brown, about five minutes.

2.  Add the carrots, cover and simmer for ten minutes without removing lid.  After 10 minutes, stir, sprinkle with salt and cook a further five minutes uncovered, or until the largest baby carrots are beginning to soften, but are still firm.

3.  Add the Madeira and cook a further two minutes, or until the wine is mostly evaporated and has formed a glossy glaze over the carrots.  Taste, adjust salt and serve.

Serve as a side dish to any roasted meat, or on their own.

Say Cheese

Leftovers are a beautiful thing, especially on a Friday night at the end of a long week.  Refrigerator check: paltry pickings. Several kinds of cheese, leftover chicken, assorted veggies, enough to make a salad. On any other night that would seem a perfectly reasonable and fast alternative to cooking something from scratch.

There was something else - the balsamic onion marmalade we made from The Zuni Café Cookbook last weekend.  Nothing seemed immediately obvious, certainly not anything that could be teased into some semblance of a main dish.  But that marmalade was so good - jammy and tart and sweet all at the same time - that it seemed a shame not to use it somehow.
 
And so to one person dinner standby - the grilled cheese sandwich.  No reason not to make a gourmet version.  Rowe Farms bacon, some beautifully nutty Gruyère cheese, the marmalade, all nestled between two slices of Nuala's Irish soda bread, sparingly spread with unsalted butter.  I toast the sandwich slooooowly on a cast iron griddle over low heat.  A glass of wine is the perfect complement to what turns out to be a delightful dinner chez moi.
 

Balsamic Onion Marmalade

adapted from The Zuni Cafe Cookbook

Two medium red onions, thinly sliced
1 tbsp olive oil
½ tsp kosher salt
2 tbsp tupelo honey
1 small bay leaf
¾ c. red wine, such as Pinot Noir
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tbsp sherry vinegar

1.  Combine onions, oil and salt in a medium saucepan over low heat and cook, stirring occasionally, for 20 minutes.  Uncover and continue cooking until any moisture has evaporated, about 10 minutes more.

2.  Stir in the honey and cook for five minutes.  Add the bay leaf and red wine, bring to a simmer and cook until the wine is syrupy, about 45 minutes. 

3. Add the two vinegars and cook until the liquid is syrupy again.  Taste and adjust for salt, sweetness and acidity.

4.  Raise the heat slightly to evaporate the last of the liquid, about 5 minutes.  The marmalade should be glossy, with a deep rich colour.

Makes approx. 1 cup.  Keeps, well-covered and refrigerated, for several weeks.

An Old Fashioned Cocoa

There's a wonderful little cafe that just opened by our house...CocoaLatte.  It's a small family-run business, with a delicious assortment of paninis, wraps, all things eggy and of course an extensive menu of teas and coffees.  Just big enough to still be cozy, with a fireplace tucked in the back and comfy chairs, CocoaLatte is the perfect place to stop after our weekly market run.  The signature drink is - naturally - cocoalatte: a tall frothy latte with a generous dollop of rich cocoa at the bottom.  Rich stirs it up; I sip it slowly, waiting for the final prize of a mouthful of chocolatey coffee. 

It reminded me that, while I drink coffee daily, I just don't drink cocoa nearly enough.  On a day when the thermometer finally dipped, and stayed, below 0C, it's exactly what I want. Ella may have her love to keep her warm, but with Richard more than 12,000 kilometres away, cocoa will have to do.

Liz's Late Night Cocoa
makes one luscious cup of cocoa

½ bar organic mik chocolate (I use Prestat Chocolates)
¾ cup organic skim milk
⅛ cup organic 35% cream, or to taste

1.  Using a double boiler*, heat water to a gentle simmer.  Break up the chocolate bar and begin to melt slowly in the pan.

*Have you tried the De Buyer Stainless Steel Bain Marie Cooker? It's an amazing all-in-one double boiler that is perfect for melting chocolate, making sauce, simmering custard or any other slow, low heat task you need to do.

2. As the chocolate melts, add the milk and stir with a mini whisk to break up chocolate particles and blend.  Add cream and swirl again.

3. Heat until very hot, but do not boil.  A final swirl, pour and sip! 

For a final decadent touch, add a dollop of whipping cream on top.


photo courtesy Prestat Chocolates

Sunday Night Dinner with Rich - The Zuni Cafe Edition

Number 19 in an infrequent but always interesting dinner series - the random cookbook Sunday night dinner. This week's edition: The Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rodgers.

To recap the dinner premise: every Sunday that Rich and I are both in town, we choose a cookbook at random and cook an entire meal from it. The cheat this week was that Sunday night's dinner was actually last night - Saturday. Sadly Rich is jetting to Hong Kong this morning. And so begins the crazy travel calendar for 2010.

But back to dinner. The second cheat is always in the choosing. Although I'm confident that every one of my cookbooks can yield a perfectly respectable, even delicious, meal, Richard is less trusting. So sometimes the random draw becomes a “best of three” effort.


Yesterday was no exception. We started with The World’s Best Recipes, a 1969 relic from my mother. This, from the introduction by Helmut Ripperger:

"You hold in your hand a collection of recipes contributed by the finest cooks in the world. Choice fare of all nations is here in this culinary anthology – prepared as we Americans like it…Whether you and your family are just folks who enjoy good food, or whether you are gourmets who have searched the world for adventures in eating, nowhere will you find more de luxe menu selections than offered here…"

And so on – almost five pages of tiny type on fragile yellow paper. Alas, the Esterházy Rostbraten, the Tournedos Niçoise  and the Biscuit Tortoni, Dom Pedro II, will have to wait for another day. The second draw yielded Blue Ribbon Recipes: Award Winning Recipes from America’s Country Fairs. Nope. Didn’t even merit a flip-through from Richard.

Third time lucky: The Zuni Café Cookbook



On the eve of a journey that will be full of more dim sum than you can shake a chopstick at, Rich gets first choice on what to cook. Happily, Zuni Café is famous for its roast chicken and that’s exactly what he craves.

We start by picking up a chicken and bacon at Rowe Farms



Judy is adamant about salting the bird at least 24 hours in advance (and for at least two days if the bird is more than 3 lbs). Twenty four hours we do not have so we hurry home to salt the chicken before picking up the rest of the meal's ingredients.

The other dishes fall into place around the main course – we’ll start with Rosemary-Grilled Chicken Livers & Bacon with Balsamic-Onion Marmalade Toasts, use the fresh Red Fife linguine I bought at the Green Barn Market in Pasta with Spicy Broccoli & Cauliflower, and serve a side of butter lettuce with a shallot vinaigrette next to the famous Zuni Roast Chicken with Bread Salad.

Yum!

Zuni Roast Chicken with Bread Salad
a shorthand version from The Zuni Café Cookbook, by Judy Rodgers

While the type isn't tiny and on fragile yellow paper, this recipe is almost as long as Helmut Ripperger's intro: more than four pages. To get the full effect - and the wonderful details - of this recipe, get thee to a cookbook store and buy the book! What follows is an abbreviated taste of the original (ingredients and amounts bolded). We could not find a small chicken, so for our 3¾ lb. bird, we used the maximum cooking times below.

1. Rinse and pat very dry a small (2¾ to 3¼ lb) chicken. Make two small "pockets" under the skin on each side of the breast, and do the same on the outside of the thickest part of the thigh. Using your fingers, slide a sprig of fresh thyme, marjoram, rosemary or sage in the pockets.





2. Season the chicken generously with salt and pepper (¾ teaspoon of salt per pound is the recommended amount). Use less salt on the ankles and wings, and salt the interior of the chicken sparingly. I use a seasoned salt from a tiny farmer's market in Paris that's flavoured with onion, garlic, thyme and oregano.



3. Several hours before you're ready to start roasting the chicken, begin preparing the bread salad. Cut 8 ounces of slightly stale, chewy peasant-style bread (I bought a good quality day-old baguette from my local grocer) into several large chunks. Trim off the bottom crust and most of the top and side crusts. Brush the bread all over with olive oil, and broil, turning once, until the bread is crisp and lightly coloured (about two minutes per side).



4. Trim any charred bits and tear the bread into chunks of various sizes, ranging from 2- to 3- inch wads to crunchy bits. Be careful! the bread is hot. You should have about 4 cups.



5. Combine ¼ cup olive oil with 1½ tbsp. Champagne vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. Toss bread with a ¼ of the vinaigrette (the bread will not be evenly dressed). Taste and adjust for salt and pepper. Set aside.

6. Take 1 tbsp dried currants and soak in 1 tsp red wine vinegar and 1 tbsp warm water. Set aside.

Of course, the cooks must have their fun, so it's time a for a drink and a snack. Nothing like a G+T and nothing better than Hendrick's!



Are you ready to roast the chicken?

7. Pre-heat the oven to 500F. If you have a convection setting, use it for the first 30 minutes of roasting. Choose a shallow flameproof roasting pan, or a 10-inch ovenproof skillet with a metal handle - something that is barely bigger than the chicken. Heat the pan over medium heat while you wipe the chicken dry.

STOP! Resist the temptation to add oil to the pan.  By preheating it, and drying the chicken thoroughly, it won't stick - I promise!

8. Set the chicken breast side up in the pan. Place the pan in the centre of the oven; it should start sizzling and browning within 20 minutes. Adjust temperature down if the chicken appears to be charring or smoking. After 30 minutes, remove from oven and turn the bird over. It's getting nice and brown! (Don't forget to turn off the convection setting if you've used it for the first 30 minutes...)



9. While the chicken is roasting, place 2 tbsp pine nuts in a small baking pan and put in the hot oven alongside chicken, to heat through - one to two minutes. Add to the bread salad.

10. Sliver two to three garlic cloves, and saute in a small amount of oil over medium heat with ¼ cup slivered green onions, until softened. Fold into bread salad, along with drained currants. Dribble salad with 2 tbsp chicken broth and fold gently. Taste and adjust for salt. Transfer to a baking dish and tent loosely with foil.

11. Roast chicken for another 10 to 20 minutes, depending on size.

12. Turn the bird one last time to recrisp the breast, another 5 to 10 minutes. At this point, put the bread salad in the oven as well. When the chicken is done, turn off the heat, and remove from oven; leave the bread salad in the oven for another five minutes.

13. Transfer chicken to a plate, and carefully pour fat from the pan. Add one tbsp water to the lean drippings left behind.

14. Slash the skin between the thighs and the breasts of the chicken, and carefully tilt the bird and plate over roasting pan so that the juices pour into the drippings.



15.  Getting close... Set the chicken aside to rest while you finish the salad. Place the roasting pan with the drippings and the chicken juices over medium-low heat and simmer.   Drizzle and toss the bread salad with a spoonful or two of the delicious juices. Add a couple of handfuls of cleaned baby arugula, a drizzle of the vinaigrette and fold gently.

16. Spread the bread salad on a warmed platter, cut the chicken into pieces and serve atop the bread salad.



Oh my goodness. That's good.

Cooking with Bonnie

You know when you go to someone's house for dinner and - from the minute you walk in the door - it's like a big, warm hug? 

That's what cooking with Bonnie is like.



Bonnie is Bonnie Stern, Toronto's pre-eminent cooking doyenne. Cooking and eating with Bonnie is like being with your best friend, mother and favourite chef all rolled into one. I went to my first Bonnie Stern cooking class years ago. It was a demonstration class about Mediterranean food. I had never heard of charmoula or Israeli couscous, didn't like lamb, thought watching food being made rather than making it myself wouldn't be any fun.

Bonnie changed all of that, but more importantly changed my attitude towards entertaining at home forever. Always generous with her wisdom and advice, Bonnie encourages her students to ask questions while she cooks. On that night, a woman lamented: “When I have guests over, how can I get the plates to the table so that they’re still hot?” Bonnie smiled and said gently: “Your friends are so happy to be at your home and having someone else cook for them, that they’re not worried about whether the plates are hot or not.” Wise words indeed.

Since that long ago evening, I’ve been blessed to get to know Bonnie personally, and to be invited to her home. The welcome is always enveloping, the food always delicious and the hospitality like family. But last night I was reminded about what Bonnie’s real gift is – the ability to share her passion and love of food, of genuine hospitality even with strangers. At a corporate cooking class with my colleagues at Bonnie’s school, I was both proud friend and eager student: making almond pesto for a gorgeous beet and fresh mozzarella salad, happily slurping cold soba noodles with fat grilled shrimp, setting the table and folding napkins with my co-workers, and finally sitting down to a feast that we helped create with Bonnie's magic.

As always, Bonnie managed to distill the evening's pleasure into simple words of advice: "When you have people over for dinner, make them part of the experience - draw them in. When everyone contributes to the final feast, even if it's as simple a task as cutting the bread or dressing the salad, it tastes even better."

Bon appétit to that!

Carmelised Onions

I've been making Brie with carmelised onions for years.  Eating Bonnie's pizza last night, slathered with carmelised onions on quick puff pastry and laced with Gorgonzola, I was reminded that carmelised onions are just about good with anything.  Double this recipe, freeze half and use liberally for anything from grilled cheese sandwiches to my favourite - a full wheel of Brie cheese, top cut off and spread with onions and baked until meltingly soft at 350F (about 30 minutes).



2 tbsps butter
8 cups sliced onions (about 4 large)
1 tbsp minced fresh thyme
4 garlic cloves, chopped
½ cup dry white wine
½ tbsp sugar

1. Melt butter in heavy very large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions; sauté until just tender, about 6 minutes. Add minced thyme, reduce heat to medium and cook until onions are golden, stirring often, about 20 minutes.

2. Add garlic and sauté 2 minutes. Add ¼ cup wine; stir until almost all liquid evaporates, about 2 minutes. Sprinkle sugar over onions and sauté until soft and brown, about 10 minutes. Add remaining ¼ cup wine; stir just until liquid evaporates, about 2 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Cool.

Making a (French) Toast to Brunch

Is there a meal more perfect than brunch?  A bit of a sleep-in, strata or other gooey eggy thing done the night before, fresh coffee brewing and baguettes bought - or better yet - hot from the oven.  Sizzling bacon, wrapped around rosemary spears.  Portobello mushrooms, taleggio cheese melting off them in a Dali-like wave, redolent with thyme and a touch of garlic.

A bit too much food - didn't need the berry bircher parfaits after all. A lazy meal, lingering and nibbling and - yes - just half of that pain au chocolat, please.  Fresh flowers on the table, sunlight streaming in the tall tall tall kitchen windows. 



A reluctant departure, a leisurely clean up and best of all - the better part of a Sunday afternoon and the New York Times to dive into.  Don't throw out that last piece of French toast! I'll share it with you.

French Toast, Two Ways
The egg dip below makes enough for roughly half a large pannetone and a few slices of French baguette; it's so good you'll need to make more.

1 large pannetone (I used a chocolate pannetone for a decadent version)
One day old French baguette
About 1½ cups milk
About ¼ cup cream (light or heavy, depending on how really decadent you want to be)
Grated zest of one large orange
1 egg
Pinch salt
Butter for cooking
Maple syrup for serving

1. Cut as much pannetone and French baguette into thick slices as you will be cooking, and set aside.

2. Combine the next four ingredients and whisk lightly until egg is well incorporated. The mixture will be thin.

3. Quickly dip the bread slices into the egg mixture so that they are "wet" on both sides.

4.  Heat a large non-stick skillet over medium heat and melt some unsalted butter in the pan until the surface is glistening.  Place the bread slices in the pan and cook gently until golden and slightly crisp. Turn and repeat.

5. To serve, pile the French toast on a sunny yellow platter, and let the guests dig in. 

Cook....


And flip....


Don't forget the maple syrup!