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The Travesty of Cold Toast


I shouldn't be getting into this. I have lots of other things to do. Other things to write about. Lots of things. I am very busy. Time is money, money is time and all that.

But I just can't let this lie. I discovered something today that is so appalling, I decided that I just had to do something about it. People need to know about this pervading sickness that is threatening to undermine society (or breakfast time at the very least).

So, what's it all about Alfie?

Well, it all started this morning as I mooched around in the kitchen in my underwear, going through the usual rigmarole of getting ready for the day. It's always tough getting going on a Monday, especially if you are trying to shake off the shackles of a mild hangover. I took receivership of a new fridge freezer at the weekend and celebrated by filling the thing with booze and I partied with it until quite late. I was bonding you see.

Anyway, some restorative coffee and toast was in order and I went through my usual process of slapping two slices of Mighty White under the grill; paying close attention with bleary eyes and a slightly aching bent back. It's quite meditative really, stooping and watching bread crisp and brown under the warm glow of a fork-shaped element. Besides, our grill is quite crap, you have to shift the bread around, otherwise you never get an even tan. I then whipped them out, piping hot and slathered some soft butter across with a swish that D'Artagnan would proud of. Using a knife of course, not a sword. I waited a moment or two, watching as the butter melted into the scratched landscape, islands of yellow fat that form cloudy reefs, before slowly sinking away. I then bit into the toast and all was right with the world.

Being the sort of guy who likes to share in his experiences, I then tweeted this -



- thinking that a) my opinion on this was totally right and irrefutable and b) that everyone would be in agreement with this fact, thus vainly stroking my ego and making me feel like a hundred million dollars.

However, it seems that not all people agree with this. It seems that some people prefer to wait for their toast to turn COLD before spreading butter across, citing that they prefer the crunchy texture of barren, stiffened bread. Some people even went so far as to say that they like to BURN their toast, leave it to cool and then they like to spread a blanket of butter and then jam (or Marmite) so that the whole topping coagulates into some marbleized, miasmic mess.

These people are clearly freaks and should not be allowed anywhere near a fork-shaped element (however inefficient). Or a toaster for that matter. That some of these people pertain to be some sort of experts in food (some have written books, some have even been on the TV) is even more galling. Since when has it ever been acceptable to let your toast go cold? Would you call a crouton toast? No. Would you return and eat a slice of charred bread, left and forgotten for 12 hours? No. Would you do the same with crumpets? No no no no no.

B&B's across the land have been getting away with it for years but to find out that people are doing this in the comfort of their own homes is disturbing. This suggestion of cold toast is madness and it needs to stop and it needs to stop NOW. 

So don't do it people......just don't.

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