Despite my new resolve to eat more healthfully and in more moderation than I have been since I got to medical school, I decided to make French toast for brunch today with some stale challah in the bread cabinet of the coop where Andy lives. The recipe is simple: a cup of milk, two eggs, a bit of sugar (I don't like to use much at all, just a few tablespoons) and a pinch of salt, a half-tablespoon of vanilla, and whichever spices one feels like using. After soaking the bread on both sides in the whisked mixture, I grilled it on a griddle oiled with a tablespoon of butter, caramelizing at least one side of each slice with a grapefruit syrup.
Any simple syrup is simple: add the same amount of sugar and liquid, be it fresh juice or water, and boil it down until it's the right consistency. We dipped bites of the toast into more syrup, but there was still quite a bit left. It could have been boiled down a bit more, I suppose. I suggested using the rest of it to flavor a vat of green tea Andy made, but he nixed the idea and shotgunned the syrup. Waste not, want not, as they say.