French, of course.
See, this is what it was like in my back yard yesterday. All those little white speckles are big fat snowflakes. And, no, that is not my house. That's the playhouse my DH built for our youngest daughter. Cool, isn't it?
Anyway, a hot breakfast was called for. We have LOTS of eggs, thanks to the chickens of our second daughter (which sounds like a French translation exercise, in itself). We had an omelet for breakfast the day before and scrambled eggs for supper, so I really didn't want any more eggs-eggs. I said, "How about French toast?" and my DH said, "Sounds good!" (They can be trained.)
Here's the way I make them, with illustrations:
Melt butter in a pan large enough to hold 2 pieces of bread. Dip bread into egg/milk to coat and put into hot pan. Sprinkle with cinnamon. Cook until browned, turn and cook on other side.
Serve with honey, maple syrup, white corn syrup, jam, preserves or powdered sugar. I think it's fairly obvious which option I chose.
A caveat (Latin for warning, and pay close attention, because this is what makes this melt-in-your-mouth treat hazardous): Be careful not to inhale when you have a forkful of this anywhere near your mouth. Imagine the laughs the black-humorous coroner would get out of your smothering in powdered sugar. I'm not saying I would laugh, but you know how those humorous coroners are.