I’m sorry to say that some of them use NORMAL SANDWICH BREAD. Pretty much every diner or breakfast restaurant will have a variation on it. It’s nothing to do with France, of course - they call it “pain perdu” which is a much better name - so you can call it whatever you like. I’ve never lost my fondness for eggy bread, even after I moved to the US and had to start calling it “french toast”. I know I’m making it sound all very magical, and indeed it was. Just eggs, sugar, and bread, and whatever miserable fire you’d managed to cobble together out of found kindling, newspaper, and the rubbing together of two sticks. None of your bourgeoisie milk or cream, let alone half-and-half. You’d whip up eggs, throw in sugar, dip a slice of white bread in it until vaguely soggy, and then fry the bastard until it was dead. Get on with itĪmong the culinary treats that I remember so fondly from my camping adventures - burned things, peas in a can, twigs - one of the highlights was “eggy bread”. There’s nothing remotely funny about the word “woggle”. They have a woggle collection made up from woggles all over the world – right, Freckles, get out, you’re just disrupting the gang. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the word “woggle” used IN CAPS to such an extent on one website. (No sniggering, now, Twitchy.) Actually, do click on that link, it’s thoroughly delightful. If you’re anything like me, you’ll have spent your formative childhood years on Scout adventures: camping, tying knots, and fiddling with your woggle. I see us downing fine Bloody Marys, Mimosas, or French Blondes, and tucking into plates of thick, delicious french toast. A reunion meal, if you will, perhaps a celebratory brunch of some kind. I do see us all, one of these days, perhaps in twenty years, looking back fondly at the early, funny days of “Nerds with Knives”. We may not ever rob a bank, or do a crime, or engage in hijinks, fol-de-rol or devilry. Oh, and we can’t forget JoJo the Dog-Faced Girl. įinally our gang includes Freckles, Charlie Boy, Other Dave. We also have “Twitcher”, who we trust with our lives, but who wouldn’t necessarily be the best pick for delicate knife work. There’s “Lefty”, the stalwart pastry expert we all called “Righty” before her tragic incident with the Microplane. Who are we, this Gang?īut just as in the best gangs, I have little nicknames for you all. I certainly wouldn’t rob a bank together, no offense, I’m sure many of you have excellent heist skills. It’s not a gang to strike fear in the hearts of our enemies. Not a particularly effectual gang, I have to admit. I do like to think of us as a gang, by the way: we, the writers of this madcap screed, and you, our wonderful readers. Hello gang! Ready for some delicious baked French toast?
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