You know when you open a loaf of bread for the first time? How excited you are to make that sandwich, or grilled cheese, or that delicious French toast your mom made you as a kid? I feel it too. I can’t wait to be a part of your creation. This is a big day for both of us.
You open the bag, and my heart beats with excitement. I can smell the melted cheese and capicola now. But my excitement is quickly overcome by fear when I see that I’m not heading towards the kitchen counter. I’m about to nosedive straight into the trash.
For years, I’ve been called “gross,” “crusty,” and “useless.” People have even said they wished I didn’t exist. They wished they could have a loaf of “just the normal bread.” Well, let me tell you, there are a lot of things I have to offer that “normal bread” does not.
For instance, I’m far more sturdy when it comes to supporting those hefty lunch meats (here’s looking at you, pancetta). I don’t have that soft center that “normal bread,” does which is incredibly fragile. Ever spread peanut butter too hard on a slice of bread and poke right through it? Can’t relate.
I am also in charge of keeping the loaf together. Without me, it couldn’t stand on its own. Those flimsy slices of puff would crumble on top of one another like dominoes, leaving you with smushed bread, completely incapable of making something as simple as toast. So keep that in mind the next time you’re about to toss me out to the birds.
Most importantly, unlike the “normal bread,” I’m not afraid of the dark. Toss me in a bag for the trip from the supermarket to your house? Bring it on. Want to put me in the fridge as leftovers? That’s kids’ stuff. Put me in a lunchbox? I won’t even blink. Those other slices can’t handle the dark. They say it’s “too scary.” Grow a pair, kid. I thrive in the dark.
I’m tired of being an afterthought. I’m only used when someone forgets to buy a new loaf and are too lazy to go out and buy a new one. I’ve been the source of several arguments between partners, siblings, and friends, fighting over which person gets the grilled cheese with “the good bread.” Any bread is “the good bread” as long as there isn’t mold on it. Idiots.
If people gave me a chance, they’d see I’m just as good as the rest of the loaf, maybe even better. I’m incredibly versatile, too. White, wheat, rye, pumpernickel, I’ve done it all. I even spent a tour with a multigrain loaf, and let me tell you, that was no easy task. The number of seeds would make you shudder.
In conclusion, I have a lot to bring to the table (your table, to be exact). I’m not just another slice. I’m a new experience, waiting for you to take a bite. I’m gonna do big things one day, and I hope you’ll think of me the next time you open that new loaf of Sara Lee.
Please stop feeding me to the birds.
Now, let’s go make some toast.