One Last Toast

Yesterday, I recounted the sad story of the Pancake Pileup and described how disappointing it can be to make a gluten-free breakfast from a box. But that was only Act I of the sorry saga. We now return to the action.

After removing all traces of the Gluten Free Scream from the kitchen, Toad heroically made like a short-order cook and in a trice we were feasting on scrambled eggs and bacon, accompanied by yoghurt parfaits with fruit compote and flax seeds. This was all very delicious and satisfactory until Toad, idly reading labels as she is wont to do, discovered that the flax seeds had been manufactured in a plant that also processes wheat and other forbidden grains. I had selected the packet from the gluten-free shelf at Wegmans without first examining the label! Cursing the heavens and my need for reading glasses, I bequeathed the bag to Toad and vowed to have stern words with the guilty shelf-stocker next time I visit the supermarket.

After our feast, we were still feeling a little peckish. Toad had brought some home-made preserves with her as a hostess gift, and I mentioned that I had some g/f bread in the freezer that might serve as a suitable vessel for her mandarin marmalade. I should mention that the bread was discovered by Sir some weeks ago in a dark and rarely-visited corner of the freezer section at our supermarket and proffered triumphantly as a gift from the gluten-free gods. As yet untested, this seemed like an excellent opportunity for a thorough evaluation. I've written elsewhere that Toad is an excellent sport about these sorts of things.

It was the work of an instant to dig out the bag from behind the tubs of lobster stock and chisel three slices from the loaf. While it was thawing, we examined the ingredients label: water, rice flour, corn starch, tapioca starch, egg whites, milk powder, butter, eggs, sugar, honey, yeast, xanthan gum, potato flour, salt, apple cider vinegar, and rice extract. What the heck was the vinegar doing in there? We were additionally concerned by the presence of dairy and our fears were not quelled by the appearance of the thawed slices.  Bright yellow and porous, they reminded us of over-leavened brioche - not necessarily a bad thing with marmalade, but no good at all in a corned beef sandwich or for mopping up stews. The aroma was distinctly unpleasant. Poking at a slice with our index fingers, we discovered it had precisely the same texture as a damp kitchen sponge.

This is not a slice of bread

Into the toaster! The slices stubbornly refused to brown evenly and began to burn at the edges before their middles took on any color. Fearing the worst, we decided to taste the toast before committing to it any of our precious confiture. The Kid Squid, still reeling from the flapjack fiasco, declined his slice.

The toast was stupefyingly disgusting. The first (and last) bite turned to wallpaper paste almost immediately in the mouth and the flavor was metallic and gross. I believe we both spat ours out, although since I have done my best to block out all memories of the event I can't be sure. On a scale of one to ten, where ten is three-star Michelin and one is a Gluten Free Screams pancake, this bread was, like, minus several hundred. It was really, really bad.

We wondered what to do with the remaining loaf. Normally, I would scatter stale bread outside for our feathered friends, but we were honestly concerned that if we broadcast this stuff in the back yard we would be responsible for mass avian homicide, either through stuck-shut beaks or completely gummed-up birdie digestive systems. Not wanting to have to remove all their twitching bodies from my lawn, we decided to be prudent and throw the bread in the trash. This is something I hate to do and I resented the manufacturer for giving me no other choice.

We honestly could not fathom how something so foul could be offered for sale to the paying public. Somebody must buy it, but who? And who would buy it more than once? Do people not realize how revolting it is? Who really believes this stuff serves as an acceptable bread substitute? What on earth is everybody thinking?

We were stymied by the whole issue and came to our own conclusions. I, for one, would much rather change tactics than muddle through with these culinary counterfeits. Instead of Gluten Free Screams, for example, I will experiment with buckwheat flour and come up with a recipe for g/f galettes. Instead of toast, I will eat breakfast oats or cornbread, both of which would serve as an excellent back drop for home-made jam (which could also be tucked inside an excellent g/f sponge or beneath custard for dessert). Brown rice with stew instead of crusty bread. Risotto instead of pasta. I think the key to success is going to be releasing myself of all preconceptions about what I should be eating - thinking outside the box, as it were. In a way, it's quite liberating.

Of course, I still have some mixes in the pantry. Maybe when I am feeling quite recovered I will try them: after all, I can always use a bit more excitement in my life.

Next up: we eat some gluten-free crackers and have our faith restored