recipe: torrijas!

sort of like a Spanish take on French toast?

What I’m reading: Birnam Wood, by Eleanor Catton. Based in New Zealand, written by a Booker prize winner (my fave prize), I think I would classify this as a political thriller? It’s engaging and well-written, though I completely missed the Shakespeare connection since I haven’t read Macbeth - still highly recommend though.

What I’m listening to: CMAT on Changes with Annie McManus. I really, really enjoyed this conversation, though I do recommend reading the content warning in the shownotes first - it gets a little bit heavy at times.

What I’m eating: life-changing fries at the Lebanese Grocer in Auckland. Also a very tasty falafel wrap, but the FRIES. They’re so perfectly seasoned (garlic, coriander, chilli) and crispy and I’m already thinking about going back to eat more.

---

I’m a big fan of breakfast, in its many wonderful forms. During the week, I’ll usually just eat something at work, while standing at my station, drinking my (third) cup of coffee, that has inevitably gone cold because I forgot to drink it. Toast or a wonky pastry or a banana is a perfectly good breakfast, and there’s never any shortage of snacks at work, which I think is one of the reasons I decided to work in hospitality in the first place.

On my days off, however, I like making a bit of a scene with my breakfast. I have a Monday ritual that brings me a lot of joy, and it goes something like this:

• wake up at around 7, make my first coffee

• drive to the gym, lift some heavy things and put them back down again

• get a coffee from Altezano in Newmarket, make sure they stamp my loyalty card

• drive home, shower, put on a load of laundry

• breakfast

• sit in the little sunny nook in the front room, do life admin bits

• go out for another coffee or perhaps a pie

• recipe testing or writing of some description

• cinema (often solo), BYO snacks

• dinner (usually a big batch of something that I’ll be eating for the rest of the week)

Now, the breakfast part of this routine is arguably the most important. I usually put music on and set myself a place at the table. It almost always involves eggs and bread, and is often just fried eggs on sourdough (with copious amounts of butter), plus salsa macha or chilli crisp. I also love pancakes, and if there’s bacon or sausages in the fridge, I’ll definitely chuck some of those on two. Vegetables are optional but encouraged. Certain types of cheese are definitely welcome (feta, halloumi, ricotta).

The most important element for me is the time. It feels like a little gift to myself, especially when the rest of the week tends to be pretty hectic and tightly scheduled. I think that having a day off on a weekday (which is the norm for most hospitality workers) is also a bit of a treat. My housemates are at work on Mondays, so I have the house to myself. I also have the use of the car, which I share with my housemates. Cafés and shops and the beach all tend to be quieter, because everyone is at school or work. It’s kind of nice being free when everyone else is otherwise occupied - it feels like there’s a bit more space to breathe. So recipes that take a little extra time, like these corn jalapeño fritters or this potato rosti are actually ideal. It’s also fun to make something just for me, when what I get paid for at work is making food for other people. I can make exactly what will satisfy whatever weird craving I’m having that particular day. That said, sometimes all I want for breakfast is PBJ on toast.

Now, for the recipe: I have a pretty sizeable stash of bread in my freezer. Most of it is sourdough from Floret’s in Auckland, which we use for some of our sandwiches at Mor. I simply cannot turn down a free loaf of bread, so I always take some home with me at the end of the week whenever there’s leftovers. I usually slice it and freeze it straight away, so I can pop it straight in the toaster (while I fry my eggs). I had slightly different intentions for this particular loaf, however. I cut off all the crusts, which I froze in a separate bag, to make breadcrumbs with. I was left with a perfectly cuboidal piece of inside-bread (no crusts in sight). I cut this into thick slices, and then halved these so that I had convenient little finger-shaped bread nuggets. This is what I used for the torrijas below, but you could absolutely use any type of bread you have (cuboid or otherwise). The appeal of this shape of bread for me was that I could caramelise each side and the edges would all be lovely and straight (I famously LOVE a 90 degree angle).

recipe: torrijas