Epic Fail, or “The Great Peanut Butter and Jelly French Toast Experiment”

Keeping HRH  happy at dinner time is not as easy as one might think (especially when mom is not home); at least I thought it would be easy in the beginning anyway.  But what do I know?  I have the stomach of a goat and assume that others do to, so I like to keep things different and, maybe, even a little creative in the kitchen in getting healthy food into my body.  But with Kidzilla, well, not so much.  She’s a bit more finicky, making my getting all those essential vitamins and minerals into her a bit more complicated.  After all, one cannot thrive solely on frozen pizza and plain spaghetti with butter.

So with this in mind, I decided to take a bit of a risk last night.  Upon considering my options in the cupboard, I realized that I had an opportunity to steal something from Chef Michael Smith’s recipe book that I’ve been curious to try.  She likes French toast, and she likes peanut butter and jelly (what kid doesn’t, right?) so, hey, why not peanut butter and jelly French toast?  Hells ya!  She’ll love it!

Thankfully, it was also fairy easy to make:

1.  Preheat a skillet (or pan) on the oven.

2.  Combine an egg, ¼ cup milk, 1 TBS (or so) of brown sugar, 1 tsp (or so) of cinnamon, and 1 TSP (or so) of vanilla.  Just whisk all that shit together.

All the ingredients, minus the sammich.

All the ingredients, minus the sammich.

3.  Make the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  No-brainer there.

Easy as PB & J.

Easy as PB & J.

4.  Dredge the sandwich in the wet mixture, allow it to drip dry, and then coat it on both sides with oatmeal.



5.  Splash a bit of oil in your skillet and drop some butter in the center. Don’t worry, the oil will keep the butter from burning.

And into the pan...

And into the pan…

6.  Slowly and patiently grill the sandwiches on one side until they’re golden brown, about 3 or 4 minutes.  Flip.  Brown the second side, serve and share while it’s still hot.  For a little pizazz, drizzle a little maple syrup on top to make it oh, so ooey- gooey fantastic!

Beauty on a plate!

Beauty on a plate!

The verdict?  It was gross.  *sigh*

In fact, her entire tasting experience went something like this:

Sits down at the table“OOOOOH!  That looks awesome!”

Yeah, yeah, yeah…tell me something I don’t know kiddo.

1st Bite“Mmmmm, this is good!  I love the maple syrup!”

Again, tell me something I don’t know.

2nd Bite“This is really different.  Strange, but I still like it.”

At this point, I can literally see her momentum and over all enthusiasm beginning to dissipate quicker than Charlie Sheen’s popularity rating.   This is not an unusual phenomenon.

3rd Bite“I’m getting pretty full.”

Really?  After just three bites?

Now, I’m no expert on child psychology, but I’ve learned to interpret these types of comments as: “I’ve reconsidered my position and would, therefore, like to retract my original statement and resubmit that this is, in fact, not to my overall liking.  Please take it away post haste, and make me some Kraft Dinner instead please.”

Frig.  Here we go.

4th Bite“What are these crunchy things?”

Me“That’s oatmeal.  It’s good for you.  It gives you energy.”

Not that she was giving the remotest consideration for my concern for her general health and well-being.  It was more a strategic way of picking the plate apart to find specific reasons not to continue eating.

5th Bite“Do I have to eat the crusts?”

And so the bargaining begins.

6th Bite:  “This is gross.  I don’t like it.”

Oh well, I guess you can’t win them all.  It literally went from ‘Awesome’ to ‘Gross’ in little over six small mouthfuls, or, the approximate equivalent of 5 minutes in standard kid eating time.

Sorry, Chef Michael, I loved it but I guess you’re going to have to step up your game a little better.  In the meantime, another plate of plain spaghetti coming right up!

God help me.

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