Toast, as friends well know, is one of my most favorite comfort foods. An odd choice for a wannabe foodie, perhaps, but I am the kind of low-rent aficionado who can still appreciate the power of crispy bread smothered in peanut butter. Especially when dad makes it.
My father being absent and my store-bought bread being moldy (ewwww, I hate that) when I went to make my midnight snack last night, I decided to stir up a batch of no-knead bread before retiring. This bit of yeasty deliciousness has already been blogged about endlessly elsewhere, but in the face of fancier loaves I had half-forgotten about my once go-to breakfast standby. Consider this post a shout out reminder for anyone else who may have also unintentionally pushed the recipe to the back of the box. It’s endlessly forgiving of sloppy measurement and substitutions. I like to cut the water down to 1.5 cups and sub in a cup of rye flour and some caraway seeds when I’m feeling fancy. And if you have a fear of bread baking and have actually never even tried it, you can put that one to rest right now. If you can stir, you are prepared to succeed here.
Now if you’ll pardon me, I think I hear some fresh toast popping up!
The sound of the toaster popping up (which somehow can be heard from any place in the house…even for a person that says “what” alot) is music to the ears. What a satisfying noise. For some stupid reason I always say “Let there be toast”. It’s not so much as what is ready and waiting, but that it was so easy. I can still remember talking my mother into buying me my own loaf of regular old white bread. I would toast and eat and then toast and eat some more. Instead of putting me off toast forever due to my own gluttony, it actually made me love it all the more. Keep on toasting. Crumbs be damned! It is the food of Gods.
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