We eat a lot of toast. Toast is my staple for breakfast and it has been for nigh on 40 years. Two bits of medium to dark brown, sometimes slightly charcoaled, light rye with a generous spread of Kraft, sorry, Bega Peanut Paste. (We don’t use the “B” word in this house given my weird phobia to certain spreadables - but that’s a whole other blog). Sometimes I go with a modern fusion of avocado with some chopped up solanato tomatoes and a soupçon of cracked black pepper. On special occasions my crunchy bread is laden with some crispy D'orsogna streaky bacon and converted into a delicious sandwich.
The toaster is quite clearly the hub of my kitchen. I can make any meal with a couple of bits of toast as its base. I’m going to throw humility out the window and announce that I could actually be bordering on Toast Master status.
Imagine my disappointment to find just recently, that my 4 year old Kambrook Essentials Extra Lift had decided to mix up the cooking pattern that I am so accustomed to. It began charcoaling one side of the bread, while merely warming the other side. My daily routine became particularly demanding - trying to balance my culinary prowess when the Kambrook is working against me.
What luck that I should also be panic-using my airline Frequent Flyer Points at the very same time as I felt a toaster upgrade was paramount. It didn’t take long to peruse the airline store given the choice was limited - I suspect everyone else had the same idea and were simultaneously upgrading their toasters. But, I was presented with the option of a delightful looking, curvaceous machine - white with chrome trim - inoffensive and subtle, yet modern and reflecting my dream to have been a 1950’s housewife.
Pre-Covid, I’d typically spend about six months reviewing products through Choice, Product Review, Google Reviews and store websites before creating a spreadsheet with a comprehensive list of pros and cons, narrowing down my choices to the winning product. Time was of the essence in this instance. I was up against an unidentified number of frequent flyer panic buyers and I had to make a decision fast. I easily had the required points and hit checkout. Excitedly I sent Mum a quick message to relay news of my “purchase” and quickly googled the make and model in order to attach a photo.
WHAT THE BLOODY HELL? I just selected a toaster worth $189. ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY NINE DOLLARS. Good God. My heart rate soared into palpitation territory. I began sweating. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever usually consider procuring such a thing. This utensil better bloody bring me the toast and wash the dishes afterwards. I’m half wondering if I need to list it under "specified contents" for insurance purposes.
Fast forward a week and it has arrived - in all its beautiful retro glory - supplied in equally gorgeous packaging. Contrary to all of my ramblings about using stuff and not keeping things for best, this machine has not left its box. It is stunning - through the film and plastic wrap. It sits on my kitchen bench teasing me and yet I can’t quite bring myself to lift it out of its secure foam surround. It is just so damn pretty.
It could be one of my most extravagant acquisitions ever.
I’ve broken every one of my rules.
And my toast is still burnt.
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