I have to admit that when a friend offered me her recipe for the French toast she learned during her Girl Scout days, I didn’t exactly rush to accept. An unfortunate experience with a campfire stew involving canned vegetables and cream-of-something soup is still etched in my mind.

But she nudged and she nagged and she insisted until I finally made a batch. And it turns out that the Girl Scouts make a mean French toast. It really was the best I have ever had: custardy in the center, with a crunchy caramelized topping that reminded me of the sugar cap of a crème brûlée.

The technique differs from other French toast recipes, with their quick dip into eggy milk. This one calls for patience. You have to soak the bread in the custard overnight, or at least for several hours, until the slices become so saturated that moving them to a baking pan can be a damp and precarious endeavor.

Then the soaked bread is slowly baked on a bed of brown sugar instead of being quickly fried. This sounds like sacrilege but turns out to be a genius move. Not only don’t you have to stand at the stove flipping pieces of soggy bread before you’re fully caffeinated, but you can also put a pan of bacon into the oven at the same time as the French toast. Then read the newspaper until the scent of caramelizing sugar and sizzling pork fat drives you to hungry distraction. It’s worth the wait.

I’ve tweaked the basic Girl Scout formula over the years, increasing the richness with extra egg yolks and cream, adding spices and other aromatics and changing the bread from sliced white to challah, brioche or sliced baguette. Use whatever light-textured bread you have on hand, preferably one that’s slightly stale.