We hate cupcakes now. This year, we'll be entranced by hot pieces of bread topped with homemade Smuckers. The toast will start out thick, then get skimpier as the craze spreads from city to city. Eventually, the buttered toast made from bread heels will become $12 tapas ($2 extra for a dusting of Ceylonese cinnamon).
Pacific Standard's John Gravois reports on the trend from San Francisco (in a piece that somehow swerves into an examination of schizo affective disorder):
The coffee shop, called the Red Door, was a spare little operation tucked into the corner of a chic industrial-style art gallery and event space (clients include Facebook, Microsoft, Evernote, Google) in downtown San Francisco. There were just three employees working behind the counter: one making coffee, one taking orders, and the soulful guy making toast. In front of him, laid out in a neat row, were a few long Pullman loaves—the boxy Wonder Bread shape, like a train car, but recognizably handmade and freshly baked. And on the brief menu, toast was a standalone item—at $3 per slice.
It took me just a few seconds to digest what this meant: that toast, like the cupcake and the dill pickle before it, had been elevated to the artisanal plane. So I ordered some. It was pretty good. It tasted just like toast, but better.
Watch for a toast bar in your up-and-coming neighborhood! But don't bother setting up a Tumblr account; Fuck Yeah Toast got there first.
As with so many things, Bob and Ray anticipated this. See the ad for House of Toast after a promo for another type of business that's sure to pop up any day now: