Bombay Toasts (A Spicy take on the French Toast) & Thoughts on Eggs

Recently eggs have been on my mind. Yes, we are right at the beginning of Easter, which is very egg-centric. But also, my Mom --the egg donor of my existence--moved in with me recently and I have been spending a lot of time with her.

(picture courtesy of The Innovation Diaries which has a very cool article on How To Raise Chickens To Lay Eggs)

I have always thought eggs fragile. Perhaps it has something to do with the Humpty-Dumpty poem from my childhood. In 2011, before my father's death, I wrote:

Heavy, dark clouds massed, as if ordered by a general, at a point right above Sarah’s tiny blue car. From above it looked like a robin’s egg lost from a nest. Thunder boomed and lurid purple lightning cracked the sky, warning of an impending storm.

(The Djinn's Dilemma, Harlequin, 2011)

Well today, my mother is the lost egg. It's been three months, but my mother is still trying to cope with the loss of my father and the end of a happy 53-year-old marriage. There are days she simply falls apart and I have to do my best to hold her together. A lot of tissues, hugs, and listening is involved.

I want to fix her hurt, but I can't. So instead, I seek to comfort. In my family, we often express our love through food. Since she's been staying with me, I have discovered she loves eggs. So I make eggs...in different variations to tempt her and make her smile.

While many of you might be more familiar with sweeter French Toast dusted with powdered sugar, my mother prefers golden Bombay Toasts spiked with green chilies and cilantro.

Recipe

2 eggs
1 large shallot, peeled and thinly sliced (or a bit more)
1 to 2 green chilies (these are slightly larger versions of Thai chilies), thinly sliced
2 tablespoons coriander, minced
pinch of turmeric
salt & pepper
a splash of milk
6 to 8 slices of a French Baguette (though traditionally, 3 pieces of white breads cut on the diagonal into triangle is the way to go. But Mom likes this better.)
1/4 cup grated cheddar cheese (optional)
2 tablespoons oil or butter

Directions:

1. In a bowl, whisk together eggs through milk. (Um, yes discard the egg shells)
2. Heat the oil or butter in a frying pan.
3. Dip a few slices of bread in the egg mixture, making sure to coat both sides.
4.Place in hot pan, sprinkle a bit of cheee on top if using and drizzle a bit more of the egg mix on top of that. Fry until brown, golden and crispy on both sides.

5. Repeat until all the bread is done. Serve warm. Enjoy!

This post has been brought to you by #Letslunch, a gathering of food bloggers from around the world. Here are a few other egg-citing posts!

HapaMama's Homestyle Chinese Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes

Cheryl's Singapore-Style Chai Poh Scramble

Denise's Beet Dye & Pink Deviled Eggs

Felicia's Fried Egg Sandwich

Lucy's Tie-Dye Easter Eggs & Oldfashioned Boiled Dressing

A Song & Memory: Besame Mucho & Banana Bread

My father died January 4 and I find myself at an emotional standstill, still trying to accept that fact. Outside, I'm functioning, taking care of my mother who had to move in with me. Inside, I have stalled. I have other priorities now...being strong for my mom, taking care of paperwork, making doctors appointments, cooking proper meals for the family and more.

What I'm not doing is writing...really writing. Slowly, I have resumed my newspaper column, but other than that...nada. My blogs have stagnated, I haven't written a new story since last year. To write is to feel, and I'm afraid to feel.

Last year, before any of this, I had been part of a fun twitter conversation and suggested this month's #Letslunch idea: Music inspired food. Life was light then.

I was going to sit this one out, but then I got a kind note from one of #Letslunch pals and she said she'd love to read anything I had to share about my dad. So here goes.

For your listening pleasure, I'm sharing Besame Mucho, a song I found downloaded on my Papa's new iPhone.

BESAME MUCHO


Click on it, listen and read on.

A large part of who I am today is thanks to my Papa. He lived well, taught me much and made some wonderful memories.

We both enjoyed food, shared a curiosity about new ingredients and complex kitchen processes and relished flavors and textures — from the balance of sweet and sour in a pickle to the buttery softness of fresh baked bread. If he saw something new and interesting and edible, he'd buy it and try it.

His sailing career allowed him to taste an adventurous variety of foods, from octopus fried rice to cooked camel. Despite trying all the exotic fare, one of his favorite things was my mother's banana bread — preferably still warm from the oven.

He loved this homey treat my mother essentially threw together to use up overripe, black bananas we all refused to touch. A cup of coffee and a slice of banana bread was enough to make him a contented man. He always enjoyed his treat with a smile.

After his death, we had an outpouring of calls, visits and stories from family and friends. And we kept hearing stories about my father and banana bread.

At the time of his death, my father worked at Home Depot. If any of his co-workers happened to be going through a rough time or if they were celebrating a birthday or a promotion, a banana bread would show up on his or her desk (if the recipient was on a special diet, then it could be a granola bar or oranges).

My father apparently believed my mom's home-baked goodness could cheer up anyone and fit all situations. He loved playing the banana bread Santa at his store.

His colleagues remembered him by wearing ribbons and the management surprised the staff with a banana bread break in his honor.

On a personal level, my father's death, funeral service and burial passed in a blur. While my heart ached, worry about my mom and the need to be strong took over. My mother didn't just lose her husband, but also her best friend and co-conspirator.

I'm spending these months with her because, well, we need each other right now, more than ever before. Emotions ebb and flow. One moment we are laughing over a funny Papa story and the next we are sobbing out a monsoon of tears.

We spend a lot of time in the kitchen, cooking and reminiscing. Recently, I was helping clean out her refrigerator and discovered some gooey, black bananas. This perfect coincidence stole my breath for a moment. Then we baked banana bread and shared a cup of coffee in honor of the amazing man we both love. I can't think of a better memorial.

I hope you enjoy listening to Besame Mucho with a cup of something warm and a slice of my mom's banana bread.

(part of this post was originally published in the San Angelo Standard-Times)

Mom's Banana Bread

ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon cinnamon

¼ teaspoon nutmeg

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

2 or 3 ripe, medium bananas

2 teaspoon lemon juice

¾ cup vegetable or canola oil (you can use butter if you prefer)

1/2 cup yogurt or sour cream

1 cup sugar (or ½ cup Splenda)

2 eggs

¼ cup chopped pecans

¼ cup raisins or craisins

directions

1 Preheat oven at 350 degrees.

2 Grease a 9X5X3-inch loaf pan with cooking oil spray. Set aside.

3 Sift together all the dry ingredients, except for sugar (from flour to baking soda), and set aside.

4 In another bowl, mash the bananas with lemon juice and set aside.

5 In a large bowl, whisk together oil and yogurt, sugar (a bit at time) and eggs (one at a time). Add in the mashed bananas.

6 Add in the dry ingredient mix into the wet ingredients a little bit at a time, mixing or folding as you go. Reserve about ¼ cup of the dry mix.

7 Toss the reserved flour mix with the pecans and raisins, and then fold these into the bread batter.

8 Pour batter into the loaf pan and bake 45 minutes.

9 Lower temperature to 300 degrees and bake another 20-25 minutes, or until done. A toothpick inserted into the center should come out dry.

10 Cool & serve.