For several years, French toast was a surefire breakfast-lunch hit.

I liked it because it was a great way to use up bread, even loaves that were a bit past their prime. Parker loved it because it was toasty and eggy and sweet and usually came with a dressing of either chocolate chips or maple syrup.

Until the day about a year ago he decided he didn’t. Which I thought was pretty stupid. And no matter how many times I asked, offered and prodded, he has wanted nothing to do with French toast since then.

So this morning, he was slow to get out of bed. And I had a loaf of rustic sourdough in need of consuming. So before he’d even made it down the stairs, I had two thick slabs frying away in the skillet. And for good measure, I sprinkled them with chocolate chips.

Normally, I wait until he comes downstairs, then ask him what he wants. Today, I decided breakfast would not be a democracy.

So of course he sat down and inhaled it without a word.

“Daddy, you make the best French toast!” he said at last.

Which is why I say they are just messing with us.

The other reason I like French toast is that the leftovers make great lunch items. I sliced one slab in half and used it as the bread for a robust peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was tempted to add Nutella, but figured he’d had enough chocolate already.

For the rest of the lunch, I went with leftovers from last night’s roast chicken dinner. Add some whole-wheat tortillas, sour cream, cheese and a packet of guac, and we have the makings of some fine chicken tacos.

Finally, to sweeten the deal, I added some leftover pear crisp, a simple five-ingredient dessert that is a healthy treat.