On Tuesday night, it was my turn to produce something for dinner. Typically, this involves a quick trip over to Taco Bell, Burger King, or Tim Hortons. Instead, the urge hit me to make some french toast. We're not a big "breakfast for dinner" family, but we don't shy away from eating the occasional nighttime pancake. And though I've made french toast several times before, I wouldn't say it's my specialty. It's always edible, but I often feel that something is missing or not quite right.

Well, the french toast gods must have descended upon my house and bestowed on me a gift in the form of the ability to make some hella good french toast, because that's exactly what I did. It was not only the best I've ever made, but probably the best I've ever eaten. It looked pretty nice as well, so I wish I had thought to take a picture. Had I known before I started eating that it would have been like eating bite-sized pieces of happiness, I would have taken the time to get my camera. In fact, I would have gotten my video camera. Then anytime I'm feeling down, I'd watch the video and relive that night when I made and ate the perfect french toast, and it would make me feel better.