Ooooooh, I’m excited about this new recipe!
There was almost an entire loaf of French bread in our kitchen, leftover from Saturday night’s fondue dinner, so I figured I should do something with it instead of just letting it go to waste. So, that’s just what I did! 😀
Last night, I made a Sweet Pear Breakfast Casserole using the (really stale) French bread, an Asian Pear, brown sugar, eggs, soy milk, and a few spices. I baked it last night and just reheated a piece for breakfast this morning.
Sweet Pear Breakfast Casserole
- 1 loaf of day-old French bread, cut into 1-inch cubes
- 1 pear, diced into small pieces
- 2 eggs
- 2 cups of vanilla-flavored soy milk
- 1/2 cup raisins
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp ground ginger
- 1/4 tsp nutmeg
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- Preheat oven to 325*F.
- Combine all ingredients, except for the bread, in a large mixing bowl; whisk together.
- Add bread cubes to mixture, coat well, and allow to marinate for 20 minutes.
- Coat a 8 X 11 baking dish with non-stick cooking spray and pour bread mixture evenly into it.
- Cover baking dish with tinfoil and bake for 20 minutes. Remove baking dish from oven, take off tinfoil, and bake casserole uncovered for another 30 minutes until bread begins to lightly brown.
- Remove from oven and allow to cool before serving.
- Serve with maple syrup, yogurt, or powdered sugar.
I enjoyed a warm piece of the Sweet Pear Breakfast Casserole with a big scoop of yogurt, which I sprinkled with cinnamon. On the side, I had a mug of hot pumpkin spice coffee with soy milk. Loved this breakfast.
So, last night, Mal and I were lying in bed talking about how old we were when we stopped believing in Santa Claus. Neither of us could remember exactly how old we were, but I remembered the Christmas that I really questioned whether Santa was real or not. A Christmas “miracle” made me believe in him for another year! 😉
It was Christmas 1990, and I was 10-years-old. I vaguely remember my friends saying that Santa wasn’t real and then telling my sister because I thought I was so cool for knowing the truth. I also remember snooping in my mom’s bedroom closet and stumbling upon a whole bunch of presents that I put on my Christmas list, so I knew something was up. (Although, I never quite figured out how Santa’s reindeers ate the carrots that we left for them. There were bites out of them and everything!)
By the time Christmas rolled around, I “knew” there wasn’t a Santa Claus. I mean, those guys at the mall were definitely fake and I uncovered my mom’s little “secret,” so there was no way there was a Santa.
But, on Christmas morning that year, my thinking totally changed because under our Christmas tree was a Nintendo!!! Hey, it was 1990. Those things were totally awesome and I really, really wanted one. I clearly remember unwrpapping the box with my sister and shrieking when I saw what was inside. My mom even has photos of us (in our Christmas nightgowns and messy hair) freaking out.
In my mind, there was NO WAY that my mom could afford such an expensive gift, so the only person who could have given it to us was Santa. Plus, my sister and I both asked for Nintendo for Christmas and we were good all year long! 😉
Question of the Day
At what age did you stop believing in Santa?