Critics are, all of a sudden, falling over themselves to praise the age-old snack/dessert. Why has it been thrust into the foodie-limelight – and where are the best places to try it?
This is not just any french toast. This is a slice of french toast with paparazzi. Search photo-sharing sites such as Instagram and Tumblr and hundreds of identical images flood across the screen: a blue-and-white china plate, a triangle of toast, a triumphant swirl of pale green Mr Whippy teetering at its side, the whole thing shrouded in a sort of gloomy patina of shade.
Even the most jaded critics have barely been able to contain their praise: in the London Evening Standard, Grace Dent called it “the greatest new pudding in London for 2015”, with its “buttery, syrupy, sticky middle, crispy edged, hot from the pan sweet stodge”. And this is from Olive Magazine: “Never has a slice of french toast been so large, or satisfyingly squidgy.” It has clearly come a long way from those slices of stale bread dipped in egg and fried, the eggy bread of a 1970s childhood, sprinkled with a bit of sugar and maybe a splodge of jam.
