I know, I know; hear me out. You miss something special if you haven't tried this delicious breakfast meal. The recipe isn't as simple as it sounds; it is A) Milk and B) toast; however, "A" needs to be heated to just the right temperature. The microwave is fine, but the pan is better, and "B" requires homemade bread. You'll gag if you try to toast store-bought bread for this delicacy.
Bread machines were all the rage a few years ago, and ours has been quietly collecting dust in the big corner cabinet under the breakfast bar for I don't know how long. Then, suddenly yesterday, on a whim (and a lack of food in the house), I decided to pull it out, plug it in and make some bread. Thankfully, I could still find the recipe book, and we had all the ingredients needed, including yeast, kept on the bottom shelf in the freezer.
The process only took a few minutes while my soup for lunch heated up, and as I pushed start, I realized the bread would be ready when I got home from work later this afternoon. Yummy.
True to its word, the machine held a fresh hot loaf of bread when I walked through the door. Wow, I have missed that smell of bread fresh from the oven. I lifted the lid and peeked at the finished product. Okay, not entirely what I expected; the yeast was too old, or the water was too cold. The bread didn't rise as much as it should have; I sliced a piece. Not fluffy and moist like Linda's used to be; however, at least it wasn't a brick. I buttered a hot slice, mixed some honey, and sat down to enjoy the afternoon snack.
Where does the loaf's other half go when the bread is removed from the oven? One minute you're eating the first slice; the next, the loaf is half gone, and there is butter and jelly all over your face. One of life's mysteries, I suppose.
When I was growing up, milk toast was a family favorite that I passed down to my family when our children were young. Continuing the recipe, toast the bread to a light brown while the milk is heating. Next, butter the bread and place it in a bowl. Add a lite sprinkling of sugar to the top of the bread, and here is the most critical element of the recipe when pouring the hot milk, pour it gently on the side to allow the milk to soak the bread from the bottom up, keeping the crusty, buttery, sugary treat on top. Yes, I am a connoisseur of milk toast.
You can imagine my horror when Linda and I were invited to a formal dinner for the Sons of Utah Pioneers [1] on a Friday evening. My great-great-grandfather Bringhurst helped settle in southern Utah, and because of my heritage, I had been invited to join and attend this National Society. Linda, a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, had a better feel than I did for membership; however, I wanted to attend the event.
Linda and I entered the room to find it filled with old family friends, many of whom I had not seen in years, and it was a wonderful evening, right up until the society served dinner. The menu was milk toast, more accurately, milk bread. The excellent recipe I had inherited must have gotten lost as I glanced around the room for toasters, pans, and sugar. There was not a single toaster or pan to be found. So these men and ladies from another generation broke their bread (mostly store-bought), stuffed the content into a glass, and poured cold milk over the top. I gagged.
My wife and I chewed on some bread, enjoyed the conversation, and then picked up pizza on our way home. It's no mystery why I was born in this generation.
Written October 13, 2022
References:
[1] [The National Society of the Sons of Utah Pioneers (sup1847.com)](https://www.sup1847.com/)