Parker Posey looks forward to the day she can be a Tea and Toast Lady
Who doesn’t love toast? Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing I like better than a newly-cut piece of beautifully made, fresh bread; it’s just that this exquisite pillowy pleasure lasts, at most, one day, and then there you are with a dried-out husk of rapidly hardening gluten, suitable perhaps for insulation or waylaying passers-by in lonely alleyways without leaving bruises (can you imagine the police report? “and then, *sniff*, and then she beat me about the head and neck with a large ciabatta“) SO much handier than a telephone book, and who even has those anymore? Or you could make spitballs with which to annoy pedestrians outside your window, if it’s not too far gone.
Where was I? Oh yes, talking about old bread. There are several food-based things you can do with superannuated bread, namely Stuffing/Dressing, Bread Pudding, French Toast, and Toast Toast. Croutons don’t count, because croutons are the devil’s own hemorrhoids, and we shall speak no more of them.
Today we are discussing toast in its purest form. It is not warm bread. Carbonization is necessary, if only to justify the word “toast” as a colour favored by hotel designers everywhere. Just look at this adorable Toast Modernist piece. Speaking of imperial levels of chic, let’s check out this fascinating video by Chloe, everyone’s favorite fashionista foodie philosotrix.
We are agreed: toast is charming! Toast is AMAZING!
Only one question remains: Marmalade: spoon or knife?
I could never marry a man who used a knife for his marmalade. FACT.
Comment by raincoaster — February 19, 2011 @ 3:10 am
Hatred of marmalade knives? Is that a Canuck thing?
More importantly, toast must be a tiny bit blackened, not just browned. I think that is what you might have been implying, but I wanted to spell it out clearly.
Comment by Erik Nabler — February 21, 2011 @ 4:53 pm
I think it’s a British thing, probably specific to the Victorian age. Back then, they did their ostentatious displays at the dinner table, not on the red carpet, and invented every kind of bizarre, single-function silver item you could imagine. So it’s an incentive to sell more spoons, I guess?
And I do agree about the toast. I went through a “pale toast” phase, but it was just a passing fling with being a picky eater, not because I actually preferred it. Toast has to be dark enough to provide some resistance when you’re spreading the peanut butter on it.
Melting peanut butter on toast is another of those small wonders that were, until recently, forbidden to me. One day after I was well, I ate nothing but bread, butter, and peanut butter on toast. It. Was. GLORIOUS.
Comment by raincoaster — February 22, 2011 @ 10:52 pm
If one is interested in the history of toast and it’s use as the literary device, one should read Stephen Fry’s hilarious book The Liar.
Comment by Manolo the Shoeblogger — February 23, 2011 @ 12:48 pm
I forgot about that, but you’re right. Stephen Fry is a gem.
Comment by raincoaster — February 24, 2011 @ 12:37 am