This is beautiful. This is perfection.
This is, as far as I know, perfect bread soaked in perfect eggs and with the perfect amount of sugar. Then baked and caramelized.
This is the torrija. Yes, you eternal pessimist you, it's French toast. But it's got some subtle differences that make it fairly unsuitable for breakfast. Like a dense, buttery bread base. And an ungodly amount of butter and sugar. This one, eaten in its entirety, is a stomach-acher.
But it's SO loveable. And it's the closest thing San Sebastián has to a food fad. No food trucks here, no pop-up cupcake shops, none of that oh-so-fun foodie drivel. Just old Basque people, sidra, and pintxos. But torrijas? They come para llevar, or to go, at the hip riverside restaurant, Ni Neu. In a custom-designed little box. May not sound like much, but here, that's pretty. dang. modern. It's the dessert por excelencia of Musika Parkean. And I love it. Some denounce. I stuff my face and then my stomach hurts. But I don't care.