Something has triggered my urge for French Toast. Maybe it was the French class right before coming home, or it may have simply been my sweet tooth screaming for dessert. As soon as I get home, I head to the kitchen and ready my apron for the battle ahead. Tools and ingredients are ready and arranged neatly. I grab and examine the egg, making sure there aren’t any imperfections for this “Michelin'' dish. I crack the best egg in a bowl with the milk. The delicate egg floats on the milk like a buoy on calm ocean waters. I start mixing them and the milk turns into an artistic piece with colors that spread out so artfully, yet so vigorously. It’s hypnotizing, spiraling my eyes out of control. When the milk has fully turned pale yellow, I dip some bread into the liquid delicately, watching it slowly drown itself into the golden liquid. I have to save it from drowning. Titanic! My heart will go on and on… but it’ll be saved without resulting in any fatalities except for my hunger. It’s now or never! Then, I take the beautiful frying pan in my hands, and rub butter on it. The torture of the butter… watching it slowly burn to its "liquid-y" death. I press a button to heat it up until it is brutally hot, making sure that the butter melts. Now the real battle is about to begin; I hold up my bread when I hear the sizzling sound of the butter. Sizzle sizzle sizzle.. I quickly put the bread on the butter, scared that the butter would spread like wildfire on me. The aroma strikes my nose and my mouth waters. I wait for a few moments, but I don’t see the crispy golden brown crust.. "I think I might be able to play a game and watch a whole movie on Netflix", I think to myself. So I go to the living room, avoiding every obstacle that is blocking my easy entrance to it. I’ve made it, and I sit comfortably on the sofa, imagining the beautiful movie I will watch. I firmly press the buttons on the remote, and select my favorite movie Harry Potter. Time flies , and it doesn’t wait for me. When the movie ends, I happily head to the kitchen to eat something, and that's when it hits me. The smell of burning comes through my nose. I quickly run to the pan, like a doctor trying to save a very urgent and unhealthy patient. However, it is already too late. The bread is pitch black. French toast has failed..
OH NOO!!
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