Shmooie requested French toast today, then helped me make it. This is our conversation as I put it into the skillet.
Me, reviewing [everything's a teaching moment with us, poor kids]: So, what is the mixture we dipped the bread into?
Me, laughing: egg and [waiting] . . . milk, right?
Shmoo: Why do we call it French toast? Is it French?
Me: I don't know - I don't think so. Maybe people just wanted a fancy name for it . . . Oh and we put cinnamon in it, too . . .
Shmoo: And cimmanim comes from French, right?
HPR, from the next room: Cinnamon comes from India.
Shmoo: So we should call it India toast! Indian toast!
Me: Yes indeed. India toast!