Start with a few slices of brioche bread — thick slices work best.

Lay them out on a plate or cutting board for 2–3 minutes.

This tiny waiting step matters.

Brioche is soft and buttery, and when it sits out for a minute, it firms up just enough to hold the custard without tearing.

If your bread feels very fresh and super fluffy, leave it out a little longer — like we’re letting it “breathe.”

Slightly dry brioche makes the best French toast — custardy inside, not soggy.

Grab a wide bowl — something that allows the bread to lie flat.

Add:

2 eggs

a splash of milk or cream

a tiny pinch of salt

a teaspoon of sugar (optional — brioche is already sweet)

a few drops of vanilla

a little sprinkle of cinnamon, only if you like warmth

Now whisk… but gently.

We don’t want foam, just a smooth, creamy custard.

I like to pause for a second and smell the vanilla — it already feels like breakfast.

The mixture should look silky, not bubbly — like a light dessert custard.

Place your pan on medium-low heat.

Add:

a small knob of butter

plus a tiny drizzle of oil

The oil helps stop the butter from burning — little kitchen trick.

Let it melt slowly.

When the butter turns glossy and smells toasty — that’s our signal.

Not smoking, not rushing — just calm heat.

French toast tastes better when it cooks gently.

Slow heat builds flavor… and keeps the middle soft.

Now comes the delicate part.

Take one slice of brioche and place it in the custard.

Count… one, two.

Flip it to the other side — same short dip.

Not soaking. Not drowning.

Just letting it absorb enough to feel custardy.

Brioche is like a sponge — too long in the bowl and it collapses.

Lift it out and let the extra drip away for a second.

This keeps it light instead of heavy.

Feels satisfying, doesn’t it?

Lay the dipped brioche gently into the pan.

You should hear a soft, gentle sizzle.

Not loud frying — just a quiet cooking sound.

Let it sit.

Don’t press it. Don’t shuffle it around.

We’re waiting for:

golden color

buttery aroma

slightly crisp edges

After about a minute, lift one corner with a spatula.

If it looks beautifully golden — perfect.

If not… give it a little more time.

Good French toast likes patience.

Flip the slice carefully.

Now the second side cooks — same slow pace.

You’ll notice:

the surface looks glossy

the edges feel a little crisp

the center stays soft and tender

If your slice is thick, you can gently tilt it and toast the edges for a few seconds.

That helps warm the inside fully, like a soft custard without raw egg texture.

We’re aiming for:

golden outside — creamy inside.

That’s the magic of brioche.

Add a little more butter if the pan looks dry.

Dip the next slice…

Let the custard drip…

Lay it in…

Cook slowly…

Flip…

Repeat.

After a few slices, you’ll fall into a rhythm.

It feels calming — like a slow Sunday morning where time doesn’t rush you.

Cooking becomes less like a task… and more like a small ritual.

Warm pan… sweet aroma… soft sizzling…

It’s a cozy kitchen moment.

Once the slices are done, place them gently on a plate.

Give them 15–20 seconds to settle.

This tiny pause allows the inside to relax, so every bite feels soft — not wet.

Now finish your way:

a dusting of powdered sugar for a classic café touch

maple syrup or honey for sweetness

fresh berries for lightness

or just a pat of butter — simple and honest

Sometimes the simplest plate feels the most comforting.

Cut into the slice.

You’ll notice:

crisp-golden edges

a soft, pillowy center

warm vanilla aroma rising up

That’s the texture we worked for.

Not chewy.

Not soggy.

Just gently custardy — like a dessert breakfast.

Take a slow bite.

It tastes:

buttery

light

slightly sweet

warm and nostalgic

Brioche French toast feels special — but still home-made — like something you’d cook for someone you care about… or just for yourself on a quiet morning.

And yes… we made it together — step by step — patiently, calmly, like real kitchen life.