Right is a random thread time, and todays talking point is toast, and not the ones at weddings etc, I talking about them stupid toasters that don't fit in bread in, So once the bread is toasted what do you put on it, Butter, jam (what kind) etc als what colour bread... Go on knock yourselves out with one ....
Salted butter, jam or crunchy peanut butter, I drink a bucket load of coffee but with toast as well as a fry up its got to be tea, I can't drink coffee with it, yes I'm a tad weird
I once bought a toaster from Currys for £15. The lady at the till asked me if I wanted to pay £20 to extend its warranty to 5 years.
One slice marmite, one jam. Pretty much lived on it in hospital, one year. Once they’d taken the nil by mouth sign away..
On the first point - we bought a Breville that’s advertised as fitting a warburtons slice. On the second - whatever floats yr boat, marmalade at breakfast, beans / egg as a brunch, sardines or cheese for a quick lunch.
Let it cool a bit then loads of butter , occasionally jam or marmalade , and definitely no jam or marmalade if beans are involved!
Could live on toast All started back in the day toasting bread on a coal fire, eaten warm with proper butter on. Nowt comes close. Then your nans home made scufflers made in the hearth oven, she used to look at me gone out when as soon as she had made them id toast it “owd breads for toast lad not fresh” Then toast with butter and jam on , where the toast needs to have cooled down And me sat morning favourite Potts current teacake hot and buttered ohh and Lidl do a seeded bloomer for about 89p, thick sliced thats bob on toasted Al pipe darn nar, beginning to sound like a stamp collector.
Stupid toasters with all those dials that mean and do fck all. Set the thing to 5 or whatever and it pops up after a couple of minutes not browned at all. Set it to 9 and it pops up after 2 ......
I spent my first year at Uni in a hall of residence - canteen, all meals laid on. At breakfast they had one of those industrial size toast machines. As you passed down the queue you put a couple of slices in and picked them up when they crawled out the other end. Problem was one on pass through all you got was warm bread. I used to take my slices and run ‘em back through. About 4 or 5 times. This really pissed off the head man behind the counter. He was a short Italian with dark glasses who looked like the big boss man in The Italian Job who orders Michael Caine’s car to be pushed over that cliff. He didn’t speak very good English and used to try and shoo me along. Every morning we’d glare at each other over the toaster like a scene from a spaghetti western. One day after my fourth pass through the machine I came to the butter dish. It was empty. I looked at it. He looked at it. We looked at each other. “Can I have some butter?” He came back with a wry smile and handed me a bucket. I reckon he spoke better English than he let on.