Toast with gobbs of salted, melted butter

 

I love toast with butter. Don’t you? I can eat a dozen slices of that salty, buttery yumminess. And the bread? It can be any type of bread–makes no difference to me. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was so damn fattening, I’d eat it every day. Picture it. When the toast is done, it pops up from the toaster–all golden brown and hot. You grab it quickly so you don’t burn your fingers. Then you throw that bad-boy onto a plate and slather it with gobbs of creamy, salty, softened butter. And as you spread the buttery wonderment, you watch it melt . . . and ooze . . . and drip onto the plate. You have to eat it right then or else you will die. Two bites! And then it’s gone.
You look back at the toaster, and then you look over to the bread–the butter is sitting between the two, minding its own business, and you have to fight off the temptation to make four more slices. Dear God, help me!

I have a confession. Some days, I get out of control, and I smear on raspberry jam, too. The saltiness of the butter combined with the sweetness of the jam should be outlawed. Dear Father, why did you make me a fat-mobile?

But then something occured to me. As I stare at the bread, I begin to wonder if toasting it reduces the calories. I mean, does toasting do something to the molecular structure of the bread, which in turn, disintergrates the glucose; whereby, making it carb-free?

It does, correct? Okay then. I think I’ll have another slice.

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