It happens to the best of us. Eager to get back to our Veronica Mars binge, you forget to put the pint of ice cream back in the freezer, only to discover it an hour later it’s turned to soup on the counter. You set up a great sundae bar for a party, and by the time you go to tidy up, you have a gallon tub with an ice cream burg floating in the middle of a melted sea.
I’m a Gemini, which some days feels like I have the appetites of two people. Whatever I think of my astrological burden, I do appreciate duality, and think it is part and parcel of my being a solidly and person rather than an or person. I don’t like to choose between things. I like spring and autumn, Stones and Beatles, pie and cake.
Perhaps, like me and every other child from an Italian family, you went home for a weekend in late November or early December to find that your mother was gifted about 12 loaves of panettone bread. She knows that those sweet, dried fruit-studded, slightly pyramid-shaped breads will sit on her dining room table for the whole month and she won’t eat them. She then pawned off two of the panettones onto you.
Let me be perfectly clear, by "pizza French toast" I do not, as one might assume, refer to French toast made with pizza flavorings. While I’m sure it would be a lovely morning project to soak a piece of slightly stale, hearty Italian bread in a custard enriched with garlic and oregano and fry it up in olive oil, then top with your favorite pie toppings, and hit it under a broiler, this is not what we are discussing.