Pop early or toast will be brown bread

Reporter: Kevin Fitzpatrick
Date published: 19 April 2010


THE ART OF MAKING TOAST:

Toast genuinely is the best thing since sliced bread.
It had been around before then but because people had to cut it themselves the bread was invariably sliced like a door wedge.

It wasn’t until it came packaged in a row of identically sized pieces that toast really began to carve out its place in the heart of the nation.

And yet, unified as we are in the belief that hot toast with a fair lashing of melted butter is the food of breakfast Gods, everyone has a different view of how it should be.

I am a lightly toasted man, a crunch on the bite but a softness on the chew. Don’t get me wrong, it is toast, it’s just not been burnt at the stake like some people would have it. Everyone knows that white is by far the best but if you want to feel smug and worthy then wholemeal is the better option.

Standing between you and your perfect toast is a fire-breathing dragon at the gates of a fairytale castle.

In many ways the toaster is like a good woman, feisty, unpredictable and prone to complete over-reaction.

Ironically though, you have to treat it like a man. Let it think it’s in charge but always keep your eye on it and lavish it with praise for doing a job that is actually what it’s supposed to do anyway. For some reason, even if you use your toaster almost every day, it’s unlikely you’ll have any idea which setting to choose.

You’ll look at the dial and try to remember what toast it produced last time. Then you’ll wonder if anyone has adjusted it in the intervening period. By the time you push it down, all confidence will have disappeared and you’ll hover nervously, risking your nose to check on progress.

It is acceptable practice to pop early but this usually only leads to more problems. You’ll put it back in for another full cook, fully intending to pop early again and then you’ll forget and wander off to feed the cat.

If the sound of the smoke alarm lets you know it’s done then a bit of scraping may be necessary. If you’re hacking away until you can see your fingers, it might be easier just to put some jam on a piece of coal.

Once your toast has come out just the way you like it, get spreading because time is of the essence if you want the butter to sink under surface and melt in your mouth. Add condiments, cut diagonally in half and enjoy, taking a first bite which is far too big but just reward for all your hard work.

There is another form of toast and it’s the ‘please raise your glasses’ type at special occasions. I’ve done a couple over the years and I think they’ve generally been well received. Last time the master of ceremonies said: “Do you want to make your toast now or shall we let them keep enjoying themselves?”


Next week: The art of being polite