What is it about french toast that inspires so much sentimentality?
French toast is the cheaper and less exciting cousin of her more celebrated cousins, Ms. Pancake and Mr. Waffle. It’s just toast, stuff you find at home. It does not have an exotic shape, like the waffle, which looks like a perfect mechanical letter pressed pastry. It doesn’t seem to need special effort to create, unlike the pancake. the solid form of the french toast is store bought, all you have to do is throw in milk and eggs and honey.
There are two kinds of people in the world. The french toast makers, and the french toast consumers. Just like you can divide the world into the fuckers and the fucked. Now you would think the fuckers are the french toast consumers and the fucked are the ones who are relegated into the kitchen, slaving away at the perfect french toast for the fuckers.
But see in this world, the fuckers are also those who take on the role of the right wingers of the world, the capitalists who say they will “provide”. They provide you with the french toast. They are the “protectors” like the Iron Dome, the israeli all-weather defense system, whose mettle was tested and passed with flying colors this November 2012.
Be warned that although these fuckers will cook french toast for you when you wake up, they will leave you. breakfast food lovers are a special breed. It speaks of mornings full of hope, it don’t matter what hour you consumed it. And french toast more than anything is the breakfast food that embodies a hearty meal fortifying bodies worn out from hours of fucking and chasing and heat and dusty covers and rumpled linens. It’s crap you toss together that happens to end up yummy. It’s not something you make from scratch, that you have to season and flavor and mold and shape and use measuring and cups and know remedial fractions to create.
Think of the last three people you’ve been with. They’ve all made you french toast, haven’t they at some point in your relationship? Whether it lasted 2 years or 2 months, if they have taken on that role, then you are the fucked one. They wooed you with their french toast skills then left you after you were well and truly besotted.
Screw that i mean really who needs that? Learn to make your own fucking french toast.
But a life unexamined is a life not worth living, so says Socrates, a bearded ne’er do well who frequents my local corner inuman dive. he’s no french toast eater. That’s for mawkish sissies. it’s protein, deep fried tapa and tocino for him or nothing. You can’t get into his bed with sissy food like french toast, which can’t decide if it wants to be a full on dish of its own or just a variation of fucking bread. I mean, it’s just fucking bread with a fancy ass name. Add “french” before something and it’s suddenly fancy- french tips, french fries, french maid, french kiss.
You can tell a lot about the person, in this case, the personality of the fucker, by how they make their french toast. Out of milk? Well, they’re resourceful enough to make their FT with chocolate milk, that means they’re resourceful enough to keep you along to play with after their honeymoon with the next fucked one they’ve left you for and ignore you when it’s inconvenient. Their french toast is soft and crust-less and drenched with more eggs than a Wall Streeter at an Occupy protest? Well aren’t they considerate, so considerate they hover around you like a CIA drone, circling and circling, surveilling your every move online, your tweets and comments, where every delayed message is seen as a rebuke.
The left wing fucked hippies of this world better step up. Because as winston churchill said, Show me a young Conservative and I’ll show you someone with no heart. Show me an old Liberal and I’ll show you someone with no brains.
Watch this space for more food reviews of the following: lechon (roast pork), bourbon, chocolate milk, banana.