4 Toast Recipes For A Frugal Budget That Won’t Bring Her Back But Will Keep You Going

toasts

She’s gone and punishing yourself isn’t going to bring her back; it only makes everyone else want to leave, to.

It’s a good idea for you to start eating again, maybe.

Proteins and vegetables and complex carbohydrates–it’s a lot to take in right now, figuratively and, if you’ve been shut in this long without a regular eating schedule, possibly literally.

Let’s get a loaf of bread from the store and start from there. You can even burn it a bit, or a lot, depending on your preferences or, if we’re being honest here, the likelihood you’ll abandon the cooking process to lay back in bed.

I’ll even give you some fun history facts about toast so you can feel like you’reexploring food history and not putting in the least amount of effort in not starving to death so you can live to cry about how beautiful her wrists were another day.

The word “toast” is derived from the Latin word “torrere”, to burn. Just a fun fact. Also a fun fact is that what is now an “artisanal” food you can expect to pay $5–10 for in places like San Francisco was considered a discardable garnish (much like what places like San Francisco think of people who can’t afford $10 toast). It was the practice to put toasted bread in alcohol, and then eat or throw it away when you’d finished your drink. This is corroborated in Lodowick Lloyd’s 1573 The Pilgrimage of Princes and Shakespeare’s 1616 cash cow The Merry Wives of Windsor:

FALSTAFF Go, fetch me a quart of Sacke, put a tost in’t.

Men are just naturally better writers; can you imagine a woman being able to stretch the same character to fill out three fucking plays about how much better England is than France?

Jonathan Swift, describes eating toast separately from your drink in his 1730 work, “A Panegyrick on the Dean, in the Person of a Lady in the North”.

Be humbly minded, know your post;
Sweeten your tea, and watch your toast.

It’s thought to be one of the earlier mentions of this haute tradition that swept the realm.

She is gone and probably not coming back. But you’re not alone. The toast predates and will succeed us. Toast is life. Toast is pain. Toast is defeat and victory. You will be whole again.

Texas Toast

Go to a grocery store that has a bread aisle. If there isn’t a bag of sliced bread labeled “Texas Toast” or otherwise noticeably much thicker than the other sliced bread varieties, get an unsliced loaf and cut it yourself.

Butter it on both sides, and then grill it on a frying pan or put it in an oven. You can put cheese on top. You can spread minced garlic on it. You can use it as a little pseudo-plate for a side of meat. But if all that is too much for you to try yet, bread and butter is a great start. It’s calories, it’s protein, it’s fiber, it’s something.

I’m kinda meh on people wanting to try and take credit for the practice of soaking bread in fat and eating it, which is like trying to take credit for binge-watching a show you still don’t know if you hate yet.

That said, I like the origin story put forth by Royce Hailey of Dallas’ Pig Stand circa 1941: a baker delivered bread that was too thick to put in the toaster, so they said “AW HECK, LET’S NOT SUCCUMB TO THE DISPARITY OF OUR AVAILABLE TOOLS” (paraphrasing) and threw it on the grill instead.

Sometimes, in this post-modern groin-shot that is life, you just gotta throw that shit on the grill and let Maillard sort it out.

Milk Toast

Once you tire of the novelty of just eating the secessionist part of a grilled cheese, now it’s time to start putting stuff on your toast.

There’s the New England way, which is to pour a milk-based white sauce (recipe) over the toast. It’s bland but hearty, good if you have some cocoa powder or paprika burning a hole in your pantry. Now it can burn through the oppressive numbness of her absence.

This style of milk toast is common in parts of Asia (where it’s also known asbutter toast); as western-style bread became more available in Japan and other countries, what was once a luxury item became an accessible comfort food sold by cafes and street vendors. I should clarify that my haphazard drizzle technique — which could easily be mistaken as the work of a first-year community college painting student banking on the slim chance that no one else in his class has never heard of Jackson Pollock — does not reflect the artistry I’ve seen in pictures of milk toast made in cafes.

Condensed milk has protein and a bit of calcium; if you’re struggling to feed yourself, it’s convenient and low effort calories. Spoon some out of a can, drizzle it on the toast, and dip the spoon and whatever condensed milk is still stuck to it right into your tea and coffee. And go ahead and spoon in some more in there if you need.

Survive and advance. We’ll have a gay old time talking about the appropriate greens to pair with our local micro-batch smoked blue stilton once you’re able to actually make it to the store. We can put on a record and have a contemplative discussion on condensed milk’s history as a ration for soldiers and how a lot of food that is both hoisted onto the working class and vilified as being “unfit” has roots in giving young men the energy to murder one another.

Beans on Toast

I would not be considered a reputable food blogger if I didn’t indulge in at least the occasionaldeeply moving personal anecdote related to the food I’m about to present. So, here goes: I went to a brunch place in Portland that sold this for like $7 but I guess it was warranted because they used the Heinz Baked Beans that are typical of the British tradition? I didn’t order them, though. I ordered the corncakes and had a realization that I’ve almost grown dependent on the veneer of aloofness so commonplace with living in the Bay Area because the cashier’s genuine enthusiasm for me to eat my brunch in her establishment made me incredibly uncomfortable.

Baked beans were introduced to the UK in 1886 as a foreign delicacy from the US and eventually incorporated as a staple and comfort food. Like a lot ofAmerican food, it’s proliferation has historical roots in World War 2; a longer, more depressing tangent for later.

When I fantasize about what I’d do with my life if money were no object, I try to remain grounded in the mundane, because I lived in Arizona for 13 years and can be heard very audibly bored on home videos visiting the Grand Canyon. I want to eat a proper English Breakfast in England and overhear a debate over who created pisco in Peru (the Spanish-language Wikipedia article is frequently vandalized by Peruvians and Chileans to insist that the other could never make something as good and heavenly as pisco). The world is plenty fucked up by people who travel hoping to “improve themselves” or “give back to the world”. You can run as far as your passport can carry you from the hole she left in you, but you can’t escape from the shadow of your own privilege and entitlement.

If you live in a food desert, it might be hard to find vegetarian or vegan baked beans. I made this recipe, which is vegan and gluten-free! You can learn how to make it here.

Zuppa alla Pavese (Egg and Bread Soup)

Look, I know not even all the love of all the world right now would mean only a fraction of what her indifferent and distracted attention would be. I get that. It’s okay to feel that way. But you’re not alone.

I care about you. So much that I went back in time and totally fucked up a 16th century Italian dish to make it safer for you to eat. And I don’t even care that you forgot to sign out of my Netflix account and now all my recommendations are fucked up.

In 1525, at the Battle of Pavia, Francis I tried swaying his rival Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor, to step off his shit and instead try governing whatever the French equivalent of “bofa deez nuts” is. His argument was not persuasive. Before he was captured, the legend has it he crashed at some peasant’s house, where his hostess made him this soup.

Traditionally, you place the toasted bread in the bowl, place uncooked eggs on it, and then pour the hot broth over it, very slightly cooking the eggs.

My version of the recipe is below:

Butter bread.
Toast it.
Boil broth.
Poach eggs in broth.
Put toasted bread in bowl.
Place poached eggs on top of bread.
Sprinkle with parmesan cheese.
Pour broth over it.

I poached the eggs because 1) pouring hot broth over the eggs doesn’t kill all the salmonella, and you might not have the best immunity if you haven’t been eating, and 2) poaching eggs in the broth before hand allows the whites to absorb the flavor of the broth and you don’t have to worry about it being poached perfect because you’re just pouring it all out anyway.

If you make your own stock from scraps (or use cubes), the priciest part of this dish is the parmesan cheese. This is why it’s good to always save the cheese packets you get from pizza places. It could save you a few bucks when you want to eat like a disgraced monarch.

And the dish is very good. It’s like drinking a breadstick. AND IS CONTORTING THE EXPECTED CONNOTATIONS OF THE CORPOREAL FORM NOT SUFFICIENT SIGN OF VICTORY OVER LIFE’S DAILY HUMILIATIONS?

You’re going to be okay. Your father and I are very proud of and support you.

Now try to finish your toast and we’ll try to set the Lululemon on fire with our minds.

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1 Comment

  1. […] this recipe, I separated the noodles from the broth and, like with my bread and egg soup, poached the eggs in the broth instead of getting a fresh pot of water. It gives the eggs a little […]

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