Yesterday, on the beloved Easter Sunday I decided to make breakfast lunch and dinner at once so that I would not be tormented by laziness at a later point in the day and then have to choose between getting up when I didn’t feel like it and have gas mute the sounds of hunger my stomach is prone to emit when left unfulfilled.
I had the energy in the morning and that was all fine and well. I took my two slices of bread (in Barbados, I tend to store bread in the fridge so that it doesn’t go bad because it does not get consumed as quickly as it would back home and the bread here seems to age quicker than the bread back home) and placed one on top of the other to begin my carefully developed method of warming/toasting. But then I became distracted midway between making breakfast and I left the bread warming up just a bit too long while I was sucked in by my trickster of a phone to reply to messages. I left the stove (I warm or toast bread in a pot- usually a frying pan) on high because I did not expect that I would be away from le stove at all much less long enough to have anything happen to the bread.
Well, well, well….when I came back, this had happened:
Disclaimer: there’s a sexy filter on the picture. Just a small one. It made it more romantic in my eyes!
On the upside, I didn’t have ti utilize my entire warming method (it includes flips and stuff, you have to see it. Ha!) because the heat warmed both slices of bread all the way through.
I don’t know if I should call this interracial toast as it’s really just the shade of one that changed and they are arguably still from the same race. However, while acknowledging the shadist argument, I will go with the race one. I feel it sends out a stronger message.
Happy Monday, Nasmaniacs!
Until next post