Lazy, Thrifty, Tasty

Ugh photoshop is such an uphill struggle when there's no-one around to show you the ropes. I will not be disheartened though. It'll be easier next time. I can comfort myself remembering this delicious post-Christmas breakfast.

Before leaving Lancaster, my dad forced a pandoro on us.
Every year he goes to Aldi and stockpiles. Forgetting there are only four of us, and there's a limit to how much rich bready product we can consume. He wanted to give us one pandoro and one panettone, but luckily there was no room in our bags for two.

Shoo picks the pandoro up, looks it over, turns it upside down: "Uoh, this weighs a kilo!!"
We get it home. "It's hiyouge" - Yvonne, our flatmate, exclaims.

Folks, they're meant for Italian extended families! Three generations at one table, undefeated by Christmas lunch! Back in the day when still had those massive gatherings, this wouldn't have lasted one sitting.

We are still munching through it two weeks into January. We don't linger on the source of its longevity. Either the ton of sugar that must be in it, or some artificial nasties. Finally, Saturday comes, and I decide to the remaining half in the french toast manner. An egg, a little milk, dip, butter frothing in the pan, fry. Serve Shoo's with jam. Mine with banana.

If you're familiar with pandoro, you'll know that it's a a great castle of a bread, enriched with eggs and butter, with a feathery, spongy texture. Its crust- better say outer layer, it's so soft and moist - has a taste between toast and toffee. The dough is a fluffy, feathery yellow pillow. There's always a packet of vanilla icing sugar that you get to open and sprinkle on yourself, to give it that snow-capped effect.

French-toast a slice and the kitchen is filled with wafts of caramel, and when you take a bite you find the egg-and-milk has toned down the sweetness to something quite appropriate to a late Saturday morning.

An honourable death for a king among breads.