Caramel Apple Upside-down French Toast

I've decided to come out of the pantry, and declare my food hobby. Ever since I was a kid, I remember coming up with food concoctions. By concoctions, I mostly mean milkshakes and sandwiches. For the most part, as far as I remember, my creations were edible. (NOTE: Bologna and sprouts, seasoned with a little ketchup, between two slices of bread does NOT translate into a tasty sandwich.) Nowadays, I would love to come up with an extravagant meal for the family, but am often content to simply whip up something quick and tasty to satisfy me. Good food has always interested me, though, and thanks to the wonders of cable television, I now have access to the Food Network. I shamefully must admit that other than Jazz games, I probably watch food shows the most. I know I just said I’m usually making something quick and easy, but every once-in-a-while I am possessed by the right combination of ingredients, stamina and desire to create a meal. Recently, I watched a show that gave me this recipe for some fancy French toast. I tried it out on my new cast iron skillet I got for Christmas, and it turned out pretty good.

Follow me, now, on my journey to some ultimate French toast:

First, I made a simple caramel sauce (butter, brown sugar, and cream), and added some dried cranberries and pecans.

I then added a layer of sliced apples, and spinkled on some cinnamon and brown sugar.

The apples were then covered with a couple slices of bread soaked in my french toast batter (ingrediants not revealed) and into the oven to bake.

This is what it looked like after it was done baking.

This was the tricky part. I pressed the skillet against a cookie sheet and then had to do a little whoop-dee-doo (a.k.a. flip the pan over), to get the goodness out of the skillet. Just look at that sweetness. It goes great with a ham and cheese omlet. Well, I hope you all enjoyed this magical mystery tour. Until next time. Adieu.


Prophetic Blogger

Those of you that have been with me from the begining may remember that my 2nd entry explained how I would have links to "other" blogs while I was trying to figure out, and I quote, "how in the heck to make my own blog." Well, although I will never claim this to be perfect, I believe I have pretty much figured out the gist of this whole blogging thing.
I realize that some of you may be offended. Let's be honest, though, how many of you have actually used those links from my blog anyway? I believe 94.8% of you would say you've never used my links. The other 4.2% are lying (with 1% left to variance). Though you won't admit it, but once you view this blog, there's no reason to view another. Also, judging by the thousands of comments I get on my posts, it would be a near-full-time job just updating the links list. Half of those are invite-only blogs as well, so if you were to spite me and try to link to another blog, I would likely be leading you on a wild goose chase anyway.
So, I have decided to fulfill my own prophecy. The Other Blogs Less Interesting Than This One section of my blog has now been and forever will be removed.
Here's some pics:


Rickey Henderson

I’m not entirely sure when or how it all started, but it was in the late 80s when I got my first intro to Rickey Henderson. As a youth I was just getting into baseball, both as a player in little league and a fan. My earliest recollection of a World Series was in 1989, when the A’s sweep of the near-by San Fransisco Giants was overshadowed by the earthquake. At the time the A’s were a very good team, with a young nucleus of power hitters Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco, and Rickey Henderson had just rejoined the team after a stint with the Yankees. Since Utah had/has no major league team, I naturally latched onto the team that was the best at the time. The A’s were world champions, and they were now my team.
Next on the agenda was to find a favorite player. This part is a little fuzzy to me, but I went to a local store to get a poster. Considering my naivety, my brother was (at the time) a sports’ guru compared to me. My goal was to get a “cool” poster, preferably one sports related, but I was flexible. As I was flipping through the posters, I remember noticing a Karl Malone poster and a Bash Brothers poster of Jose and Mark. Then, another A’s player poster showed up. I’m pretty sure I didn’t know who he was at the time, but if he had a poster, he must be good – Rickey Henderson was his name.
My brother probably informed me that he was a really good player, that he was fast, and inherently skilled at stealing bases. That was enough for me, I was sold.
Over the years, I would collect Rickey’s baseball cards wherever I could. It got to the point that, even though my team was still the A’s, I cheered for whatever team Rickey was on, Toronto, San Diego, New York, Anaheim, Seattle, Boston, Los Angeles, and several return trips to Oakland. I loved learning about Rickey’s accomplishments. My Sunday morning ritual would be: put some Eggo waffles in the toaster, grab the paper, pull out the sports section, and quickly scan to see what Rickey’s year-to-date stats were while meticulously eating my Eggos. You can probably bet my excitement when I found out that Rickey’s minor-league record for stolen bases in a single game happened on my birthday. Even after the lockout almost completely destroyed my passion for MLB, the fact that Rickey was still playing kept me a fan.
Congrats to Rickey for being called to the Hall of Fame.