I ask you: What is it that is just so darn satisfying about toast?
Let's consider.
Toast is typically a back of the menu item, listed under Sides or Extras among offerings like "one egg, any style" and "half a grapefruit." Or, toast is relegated to the small, italicized subtitles tacked beneath loftier headings like Omelettes: "Served with hashbrowns and choice of toast." ("Substitute fruit cup - $1.00.")
Ah toast, even in your greasy spoon incarnation, perfectly square, cut diagonally across, served pre-buttered with a couple of plastic, foil-sealed packages of grape jelly, you are lovely, if under appreciated. Given your obvious charm, why is it so rare to find an eatery that features you as the main event?
Enter, Hi-Rise Bakery.
This place is my favorite local spot for all things baked, both sweet and savory. Right alongside heftier items like oatmeal with toasted pecans and dried cherries, pressed egg sandwiches, and yogurt with homemade granola, there it is on the breakfast menu: Toast. With a capital "T." Toast. Listed as its own boldfaced menu item on a hand-written page taped to the glass. I sometimes feel a little defiant marching up to the counter and declaring, "I'll have Toast, please." I hear my Grandmother Marion's disapproving voice in my head: "Toast is not a meal." Oh, but it is Grandma. And here at Hi-Rise, it is not only a meal, but an indulgent one. From the loaves of bread available that day, you choose two slices. I usually go for one slice of corn bread and one slice of something whole wheat-y. Then, you find a seat upstairs or outside and await the arrival of your capital Toast. The two hearty slices are served in a paper-lined basket with not-too-sweet preserves, and a whopping triangle of fresh, slightly softened butter. Thick, lightly browned and crispy on the outside, soft and springy on the inside, still warm from the toaster, this bread practically begs you to dig in with your hands, to tear off a little piece, slather with butter and preserves, chew, swallow, and repeat, as necessary.
And so, imagine my dismay to learn that Hi-Rise on Brattle St. -- the one just two blocks from my home -- will be closed until January 26. No explanations cited. Only a note stating the cold, hard truth. Fortunately, the always bustling Concord St. Hi-Rise -- the original bakery location -- is a mere twenty minute jaunt down the street, so I'm covered in case of emergency. Also fortunate is that a transcendent Toast experience is possible without leaving home. This morning, I popped a couple of slices of sourdough bread into the oven, despite the fact that I am not typically a sourdough fan. With apricot preserves, the sour twinge mellowed, and tasted, surprisingly, just right.
I don't know if it was the scrape-ity-scrape of butter dragging along the crisp, cratery surface, the glimmer of preserves in the bit of sunshine that managed to squeeze through the winter clouds, or the delightful crunch of the first bite that was so perfectly pleasing this morning. In the words of Heywood Banks, all I can say is, "Yeah, Toast!!"
I've included a toasty picture, above. You will surely notice that, as little as I know about blogging, I know even less about photography. Yes, Sweet Amandine will be a learning experience for me in more ways than one.
And with that, I raise my crumb-strewn empty plate to the end of this second post, to future posts, to trial and error and, of course, to you, sweet reader, if you're out there, that is.
[this post is dedicated to julia, fellow Toast lover and Toast eater extraordinaire]