A report on  Pepperidge Farm's Toasting Bread.

My friend, Pat-the-Leprechaun, called me up the other day. "Kali," he 
said, "Pepperidge Farm makes this bread, it's called toasting bread, 
you have to try some when you come over!" So I said okay. When we got 
to his house, we went inside, walk to his kitchen, and he pulled out a 
fresh loaf.
	The bread is thicker than most bread. It's white, but wholesome 
and grainy looking- definately not your standard American wimpybread. 
It's also smaller than my normal brand- I wasn't too sure how it would 
turn out. But I said, "Okay, let's try it!"
	We put four slices in, and got the butter out in anticipation of 
the toast. He had his toaster set up high, because the slices are so 
thick and dense. They popped up and I burned my fingers fishing a 
slice out, but while stiff, the toast wasn't browned. So we put it 
back in, waited a bit, and then popped it out again. Better, but still 
not perfect. A third waiting interval was enough to do it, though. I 
slathered mine in butter like I always do, and then asked for some 
cinnamon, which he provided. Having well buttered and cinnamoned my 
little slice of heaven, I took my first bite.
	Heaven. Pure heaven. It was crunchy on the outside, firm but warm 
and a little soft on the inside. The butter wasn't making a dent on 
the toastiness of it all, wasn't turning it to mush even a little bit. 
And the cinnamon was floating, dissolved in the little pools of melted 
butter. It was great. We made four more slices, and sat down to watch 
Beatlevids while we ate. Nothing mixes better than Paul McCartney and 
some darn good toast.

Ringo was cute too.