When I was growing up my Dad called me toad. I don’t know why but I am almost sure that he meant it as an endearment.
My Dad was away a lot when my sister and I were little investigating murders for the OPP (Ontario Provincial Police). It led to some fairly odd conversations at the dinner around the house.
I idolized him. If you were one of my students this would be when I would want you to shout “foreshadowing!”
When he came home and on holidays (mostly when we were camping) he would make breakfast for us and it would more often than not be “toad-in-the-hole”.
Like I said, I idolized him (Foreshadowing! Foreshadowing!)
I didn’t realize until much later that this was the North American version of toad-in-the-hole.
I now often make the traditional Brit version of yorkshire pudding batter and sausages (bangers) but if I’ve had a tramatically, bad day OR I’m feeling nostalgic for my childhood I make my Dad’s.
We’ve had our ups and very, low downs (blah, blah, blah, divorce. blah, blah, blah, blame. blah, blah, blah, let’s not see each other for nearly 10 years 😦 ) but we happened upon each other last summer and my Dad met my baby.
And you could literally see him fall in love in front of your eyes.
We’re now trying to figure out some sort of relationship so that he can be a part of her life, I don’t know how it’ll turn-out but we’ll both try and that’s all you can do isn’t it?
And now I make the little one toad-in-the-hole while telling her about her Grandfather.
Serve with a heck of a lot of ketchup and call someone you love; Toad. Tell them it’s code for “I love you”.
Take a piece of bread and make a hole.
Take an obscene amount of butter (2 T. should be good) and melt it in a frypan.
Add the bread and break an egg in the centre, salt and pepper. Spread the white over the bread.
If you like runny yolk then make sure you don’t pierce it while turning. If the yolks are icky to you then give it a deliberate and somewhat mean-spirited, poke and then squish the whole thing with your flipper to cook it faster.
I mean, how long do you really want to wait for fried bread?