French Toast

I had dreams about french toast last night. The kids at the child care I work at ate it for lunch. My friend's son made it for dinner.

Now I am seriously craving it! (heading downstairs to make some)

In my creative writing class we had to write a poem about our favorite food. Well I took a trip to Vegas for my 21 birthday with my big sister, She took me to 'Simon' in the Palms Palace. I was lucky to meet the greatest cook in the world (in my eyes...or i guess stomach). Anywhoo I tried the french toast there and now I dream about it.. this is my poem...

Brioche French toast crusted in frosted flakes

Sticky sweet syrup slides down the sides of the lightly browned bread

Pieces cut into bite-size bits.

Inhale. Steam spins towards your nose, smells of sweet cinnamon creeps to your conscious.

Bite. Melts in your mouth like a tiny piece of heaven

Crunch. The frosted flakes sweet sugary crust tickles your taste buds.

Exhale. Tongue still tingling, mouth still craving

Each bite more sumptuous than the last

A deep desire to indulge in more

But all that is left is a puddle of sticky sweet syrup.

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