Once upon a time, in kitchens all across Croatia—and very likely every other country where people were too frugal to waste old bread—someone’s grandmother stood over a hot pan, holding a bowl of beaten eggs, and thought, “Eh, ovo će biti dobro za doručak.” The result? A humble creation known to every Croatian child as pohani kruh, similar to what many know as French Toast.
Fast forward to 2025, and what was once the poor man’s breakfast is now a luxury brunch item found at every café from Sydney to Perth. Only now it’s wearing a beret, sipping oat milk lattes, and calling itself French Toast.
Yes, welcome to one of Australia’s greatest culinary mysteries: How did something made by our grandmothers to avoid food waste suddenly become the most Instagrammable item on the brunch menu?
A Slice of the Past (Literally)

Let’s get one thing straight: pohani kruh was never supposed to be fancy.
It was a waste-not-want-not masterpiece. Got stale bread? Don’t cry. Dip it in eggs, fry it in a bit of oil, sprinkle it with sugar if you’re feeling fancy, and boom—breakfast or lunch perhaps even dinner. Or just something to eat while telling your grandchildren about how you once smuggled a sausage in your suitcase from the old country.
There were no artisanal syrups, no edible flowers, and certainly no $8 surcharge for “cinnamon-infused heirloom maple mist.”
Enter the Era of “French Toast”
Somewhere along the way, probably while Croatians were busy tending their tomato gardens or yelling at SBS for bad translations, café culture hijacked pohani kruh. It rebranded it. Gave it a cute hat and a posh accent. Suddenly, this was no longer “old bread saved from the bin”—it was French. And worth $26.50, plus a 10% weekend surcharge.
Cue our Croatian grandmothers, collectively rising from their kitchen chairs to yell, “Ti si lud!”

Survey Says…
We recently ran a (completely serious) community survey called The Great French Toast Mystery and the results confirmed what we all suspected: every Croatian-Australian has strong opinions about this travesty.
78% grew up eating pohani kruh as a staple of survival
67% nearly fainted the first time they saw it on a menu for more than $20
89% believe cafés owe our grandmothers royalties (or at least a free coffee)
One respondent said: “My baka used to make pohani kruh with just eggs and bread. Now my local café makes me take out a loan to enjoy it with ‘Peruvian honey drizzle.’” Another added: “For $25, it better come with a side of life advice from my late grandmother.”

The Fancy Fraud
Let’s talk about the toppings. Once upon a time, if you were lucky, pohani kruh came with a dusting of sugar. Today’s “French Toast” is topped with caramelised banana, Persian fairy floss, Madagascan vanilla ice cream, smoked sea salt, and existential dread.
Even worse? The dreaded deconstructed French Toast. What is that? A slice of dry bread, an egg in a shell, and a confused waiter who whispers “interactive experience” before walking away.

Baka’s Verdict
If our Croatian grandmothers were alive today and saw what people are paying for pohani kruh, here’s what they’d do:
– Shake their heads and say, “Pola plaće za jaja i kruh?!”
– Lecture you about wartime food rations
– Make a better version at home in five minutes with one frying pan and pure judgment

Croats Were First… Probably
Is French Toast really French? Doubtful. Is it Croatian? Maybe not officially. But every culture has its version of eggy bread, and we’re pretty sure Croatians perfected it during times of war, famine, and low-carb trends.
And now? Now we see pohani kruh, dressed up and parading as French Toast, and we know the truth. We’ve always known. And we are quietly, passive-aggressively proud.
The Bottom Line
Whether you call it pohani kruh, French Toast, or “that thing baka made so we wouldn’t starve,” one thing’s certain:
It’s old bread and eggs, people. Calm down with the microgreens.
So next time you’re at brunch, eyeing the $24 “sourdough brioche French Toast with truffle essence,” just smile and remember:
Your grandmother did it first. And better. And with stale bread from last Tuesday.
Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re off to start the Artisanal Croatian Pohani Kruh Revolution™. First rule? No café surcharge. Second rule? Tell your friends.
P.S. If you’ve got a pohani kruh memory, a price shock trauma, or just want to rant about “deconstructed brunch,” our comment section is open. Bonus points if your grandma made it with jam and a side of unsolicited life advice.
Recipe: Croatian-Fusion French Toast

With Plum Jam Swirl, Rakija-Poached Figs & Walnuts
Serves: 2 brunching legends
Prep Time: 15 mins
Cook Time: 10 mins
Ingredients
For the Toast Base:
- 4 thick slices of brioche, sourdough, or even pohani kruh leftovers
- 2 large eggs
- ½ cup milk
- 1 tbsp sour cream or Greek yogurt
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- ½ tsp cinnamon
- Pinch of salt
- Butter for frying
Croatian Fusion Toppings:
- Plum jam (pekmez od šljiva) – slightly warmed
- Poached figs – 4–6 dried figs, simmered in:
- ¼ cup water
- 1 tbsp honey
- 1–2 tbsp rakija (or brandy)
- Splash of lemon juice
- Crushed walnuts (or toasted, for fancy points)
- Icing sugar for dusting
- Optional: whipped cream or kiselo vrhnje
Instructions
- Poach the figs:
In a small saucepan, combine water, honey, lemon juice, and rakija. Add figs and simmer gently for 10–12 minutes until plump and sticky. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. - Prepare the custard:
In a bowl, whisk together eggs, milk, sour cream/yogurt, cinnamon, vanilla, and a pinch of salt. - Soak the bread:
Dip each bread slice in the egg mixture and let it soak for 30 seconds on each side. - Fry like baka taught you:
Melt butter in a pan over medium heat. Fry soaked bread slices until golden on both sides (2–3 minutes per side). Try not to cry with joy yet. - Assemble your masterpiece:
- Place toast on plates.
- Drizzle with warmed plum jam.
- Top with rakija-poached figs.
- Sprinkle generously with walnuts.
- Add a light dusting of icing sugar (and maybe a dollop of whipped cream).
Optional Serving Ideas
- Serve with a side of Turkish coffee or čaj od kamilice.
- Play old Croatian music in the background for extra flair.
- Add a mini Croatian flag to the plate. Just because.
Baka’s Final Verdict:
“If we had rakija in the French Toast when I was growing up, we wouldn’t have made it to school.”