Here's an excerpt.
"Making toast is satisfying. You could say that's because it's such a comforting substance—the crispness, the heavenly aroma as yellow butter slowly melts into the crevices. But the satisfaction is also mechanical and childish: fitting the slices in the slots, setting the timer, and waiting for a ping or a pop.
For something so basic, the electric toaster arrived late. From the 1890's, gadget-crazy late Victorians could in theory use electricity to boil kettles and fry eggs, yet for toast they still relied on the toasting forks and gridirons of open hearth cookery. These were variations on the theme of prongs and baskets for holding bread (or morsels of cheese and meat) before the flame. Toasting, when you think about it is really roasting: applying dry radiant heat to something until the surface browns."
"Making toast is satisfying. You could say that's because it's such a comforting substance—the crispness, the heavenly aroma as yellow butter slowly melts into the crevices. But the satisfaction is also mechanical and childish: fitting the slices in the slots, setting the timer, and waiting for a ping or a pop.
For something so basic, the electric toaster arrived late. From the 1890's, gadget-crazy late Victorians could in theory use electricity to boil kettles and fry eggs, yet for toast they still relied on the toasting forks and gridirons of open hearth cookery. These were variations on the theme of prongs and baskets for holding bread (or morsels of cheese and meat) before the flame. Toasting, when you think about it is really roasting: applying dry radiant heat to something until the surface browns."
Comments
Post a Comment