About this photo: This is my toaster, also known as “The Burninator” or “The Crapinator” depending on the day.
Background: I love toast. Before IVF, hormones, bloat and weight gain, I ate toast once or twice a day. Once in the morning with my smoothie or oatmeal and again in the evening with my dinner. I love toast with unusual toppings such as:
- Toast topped with baked beans (homemade are better than canned)
- Toast topped with vegan cream cheese and shredded veggies
- Toast topped with olive spread and tomatoes
- Toast topped with a bit of Earth Balance buttery spread and a generous smear of Fig Cocoa jam
Toast and I have a long history together. When all this infertility bull shit started, and my waist line began to expand rapidly, I decided that I needed to cut my toast consumption way down. Now-a-days I only have toast once, maybe twice, a week meaning I want utter perfection when I splurge. Perfectly browned on both sides so the seed goodness in my pricey flour-less, sprouted-wheat bread gets warm and flavorful but not burned. If eating my toast with dinner, it needs to be the right amount of dry so it can sop up the maximum soup from my bowl.
Until the kitchen remodel, I lived with a huge toaster oven. It was super slow, but made pretty decent toast if you were patient and flipped the bread several times. The new kitchen layout, however, did not provide enough counter space for the huge toaster oven so Mr. Husband and I set about looking for a new appliance that would fit our space and provide toast perfection. Pleased with our other Waring appliances, we purchased a shamefully expensive, four-slot, stainless steel beauty.
I wish I could say it was love at first toast, but it wasn’t. The first toast to come out of this groaning toast-monster was charred. “No worries! I’m sure this toaster has a learning curve,” I said.
We continued to wrestle with it for months, throwing away burned toast, swearing when if refused to create any more than stale bread and sighing when only one side toasted resulting in your peanut butter tearing holes in the bread.Being a proud woman, I continued to wage war with the toaster rather than admit that I had wasted a huge sum of money on what is really nothing more than a fiery box of toast hell.
This week the toaster ruined one too many slices and Mr. Husband finally spoke up. “This toaster sucks. I think it is time to try another.”
“I know! If people can send humans to the moon, surely they can create a toaster that, you know, toasts!” I said.
We spent the next three days obsessively researching toasters. After reading piles of reviews I came to the conclusion that all modern-day toasters are crap. The only good reviews I read were about toasters someone had received as a wedding gift 40 years ago.
In the end, Mr. Husband and I agreed to order a new $20 toaster that got decent reviews. If this toaster fails to perform, we will return it and then begin visiting Estate Sales with a bag of bread in tow. Whenever we see an old toaster we’ll test it in hopes of finding the Holy Grail of Toasters.