I love to cook Sunday breakfast. There is always something special about it. This morning is mild and bright and French toast seems to fit the bill. It seems there are a lot of different versions to this classic but my favourite is the one that frequents the menus of Sydney cafés. Thick cut fresh bread, grilled banana, crispy bacon (or even better, pancetta) and gallons of syrup.
I eagerly mop up the last of the sweetness clinging to my plate with the warm, egg-soaked, fried bread as the church bells start to sound.