breakfast

Proper Toast

Walk before you run, darling. Then butter the walk.

Yes, darling, toast. This site is named after it, and I will not apologise. Every celebrity chef with a fourteen-course tasting menu started by burning bread, and half of them still can’t butter it properly — right to the edges, while it’s hot. That’s the whole secret, and I’m giving it to you on page one.

Toast is also your first lesson in the most important cooking skill there is: standing nearby and paying attention. Master that here and you’ll be poaching things in no time.

What You Need

  • 1–2 slices of bread — any bread, though a slice about 1.5 cm (½ inch) thick toasts best
  • Butter, softened if you can manage it (leave it out of the fridge for 20 minutes)
  • A pinch of salt, if your butter is unsalted

Kit

  • A toaster, OR a grill (that’s the broiler, my American darlings — the heat that comes from above in your oven)
  • A butter knife
  • A plate

What You Do

  1. Choose your weapon. Toaster: skip to step 2. Grill/broiler: turn it to high and let it heat for 3–4 minutes with the oven door slightly ajar if your oven manual says so.
  2. Toaster method — drop the bread in and set the dial to the middle. Every toaster lies about its settings, so treat the first slice as a rehearsal.
  3. Watch it. When it pops, you want deep golden brown — the colour of a good holiday tan, not a sunburn. Too pale? Send it back down for a short second round, watching the whole time.
  4. Grill method — lay the bread on the rack or a baking tray, about 10 cm (4 inches) below the heat. Grill for 1–2 minutes until golden, then flip with tongs and do the other side for 1–2 minutes more. Do not wander off. Grills go from “lovely” to “smoke alarm” in about 30 seconds, and they do it silently.
  5. Get it to the plate hot. The clock is ticking — butter melts into hot toast and merely sits on cold toast, sulking.
  6. Butter edge to edge. Immediately, while it’s steaming. Every corner, every crust. A buttered middle with naked edges is the mark of someone who has given up on life.
  7. Salt it — just a tiny pinch, if your butter is unsalted. Trust me.
  8. Top it, if you fancy. Jam or marmalade over the butter. Honey. Mashed banana with a shake of cinnamon. A thick swipe of peanut butter. Or nothing at all — good toast needs no chaperone.

When It All Goes Wrong

  • It’s burnt. Scrape the black bits off over the sink with a knife, like your grandmother did — or start again. Bread is cheap; your morning is not.
  • It’s pale and floppy. It came up too soon. Put it back down for another half-round and stand guard.
  • The butter won’t spread and it’s torn holes in the bread. Your butter is fridge-cold. Shave thin curls off the block with your knife and lay them on the hot toast to melt instead.
  • It’s gone cold and leathery. You left it sitting flat, where it steamed itself soggy. Toast waits for no one — eat it hot, and next time lean it against something so air gets underneath.

Doris Says

Anyone who tells you toast isn’t cooking has never had it done properly. Edges, darling. Always the edges.