Decadent Nutella and Bacon Stuffed French Toast Recipe

For the second installment of Birthday Week, I did something delightfully unexpected.

First: I made Nutella and Bacon Stuffed French Toast. It’s not a health food, nor a sensible midweek choice, but it’s ridiculously good—life-changing, even. Second: I’m sharing a personal letter I wrote to my 13-year-old self. Birthdays always make me reflective, so writing this felt like a clear way to capture a few thoughts. Yes, writing to your younger self was trendy a while back—I’m just late to the party. No apologies.

Dear 13-year-old Serena,

First, congrats on the boobs. Seriously. Try not to flash them in those Abercrombie spaghetti straps—your new assets are exciting, and they do help distract from that unfortunate pixie cut.

Don’t panic over boarding school applications. You’ll write an essay about karate that ends up winning people over. Mom helps you pick Taft, and you’ll be happier there than you expect. They even have a frozen yogurt machine.

High school is hard: Mom and Dad get divorced, you clash with Olivia, and you experiment with things—some cringe-worthy, like pairing Uggs with boot-cut jeans. But you’ll also meet Fifi, your future best friend, and throw yourself into English and physics. You’ll get into Harvard—partly because you connect with your interviewer over her surprisingly cool outfit—and that opens a lot of doors.

Wait until you’re 18: Mom finally lets you pierce your ears, and yes, you’ll be wearing danglies by graduation.

Your senior year brings your first real crush. It’s intense and makes you dream big, but after your first semester in college you’ll learn long distance can be brutal and you’ll break up. You won’t regret the growth that comes from it: you’ll be softer, less self-absorbed, and more open to love—though you won’t recognize that right away.

College is a whirlwind. You inexplicably major in sociology and French, read more than you thought possible (including Twilight), and discover a love for writing. You’ll stress, party, and sleep poorly, but you’re resilient and Mom keeps you stocked with expensive eye cream—use it.

You’ll make some questionable dating choices and occasionally do things you’ll later cringe at. Try not to be too hard on yourself; that’s part of learning.

In the spring of your senior year, you’ll have your first panic attack. You’ll think you’re dying and end up in the hospital, but you’re not. Anxiety will be something you work on for years—thank your friends and family for their patience—and learn helpful tricks: drink chamomile tea and avoid time-release Xanax.

After graduation you’ll feel lost watching peers take corporate jobs. Don’t rush. Mom suggests you travel, and you do—ending up in Paris, where you enroll at Le Cordon Bleu. It might seem ridiculous, and it is a little, but culinary school becomes the best decision you make.

Culinary school isn’t glamorous at first. You wear hairnets, burn and cut your hands, and have a rough few months. But you stick with it and fall in love with the kitchen. Food, knives, and even gruff chefs become part of your calling. You discover you’re secretly a domestic goddess and find real passion in cooking.

During your second semester in Paris you start a blog called “Domesticate Moi.” Think of it as an online diary with photos. At first only a few friends read it, but it gives you a creative outlet and helps you grow.

After a year in Paris, Fifi introduces you to Logan. You date long-distance, fall in love, then move to New York together after you finish school. Living with him is strange at first—your first apartment barely has doors—but you adapt, and he’s funny and supportive.

Your blog evolves. You rename it “Domesticate Me,” post regularly, refine your food photography, and build recipes. You write about putting Logan on a diet—he starts to think he’s internet-famous—and, slowly, your audience grows. You still doubt yourself as a self-employed creator, but supportive friends and family help you keep going. Thank them often.

No, you’re not famous by 27: no TV show, no assistant, no walk-in shoe closet. But the week before your 27th birthday you’ll be on The Dr. Oz Show, buy a striking pair of blue suede pumps, and make this Nutella and Bacon Stuffed French Toast. That week tastes like promise.

Now go enjoy a Clearly Canadian while you can and stop downloading Ja Rule songs on Napster—seriously, it’s illegal.

Love you, mean it,

Soon-to-be-27-year-old Serena

p.s. The French toast is one of the best things you’ll ever eat: fluffy challah filled with melted Nutella and crispy bacon. If nothing else, look forward to that.

Nutella and Bacon Stuffed French Toast: (Serves 4)

Ingredients:
8 slices thick-cut bacon
1 medium-sized loaf challah, sliced into 8 pieces about ¾-inch thick
4 heaping tablespoons Nutella
3 large eggs
½ cup half-and-half
½ cup whole milk
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar, packed
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch of salt
2 tablespoons butter
Maple syrup for serving

Preparing your Bacon and Nutella Stuffed French Toast:

1. Preheat the oven to 375°F.

2. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and place a wire rack on top. Spray the rack and arrange the bacon in a single layer. Bake 30 minutes until golden and crispy. Transfer bacon to paper towels to drain, let cool, then crumble into small pieces.

3. Slice challah into eight ¾-inch-thick pieces.

4. Make Nutella-and-bacon sandwiches: spread a heaping teaspoon of Nutella on one side of two slices of bread, sprinkle about two pieces of crumbled bacon on one slice, then seal the sandwich firmly.

5. In a shallow dish, whisk together eggs, half-and-half, milk, brown sugar, cinnamon, and a pinch of salt. Set beside the stove and heat a large pan over medium-low.

6. Dunk two sandwiches into the custard for 1 minute, flip, and soak 1 more minute. Melt 1 tablespoon butter in the pan. Lift each sandwich over the dish to let excess custard drip off, then cook 3–4 minutes per side until golden brown. Watch closely to avoid burning.

7. When the first batch is nearly done, soak the remaining sandwiches and repeat with the second tablespoon of butter.

8. Serve warm with powdered sugar or maple syrup and prepare to be speechless.

No words.