Feel like pure shit just want my stove back x

Will Eland | THEY/THEM

I don't think there’s ever a good time to accidentally drop the heavy cast iron lid of your crock pot onto your glass induction stove-top, sending cracks through the elements, but I’d say that during lockdown might be one of the worst times to do so.

Prior to me rendering our entire stove nonfunctional, my flatmates and I had been cooking up a veritable feast every day to wile away the hours. We’ve had lasagnes with homemade pasta, chillies, nachos, stews, soups, steaks, and we even made our own tortillas and stacks on stacks of crepes. We have made meringues, homemade ice cream, baguettes—honestly, everything under the sun that we had the ingredients for. 

Now we have had to rethink everything we can cook to only those that can be made in a rice cooker, slow cooker, microwave, oven, and toastie maker (thankfully, we are hoarders of kitchen appliances. I have a chocolate fountain that I don’t think I’ve ever used).

This has led me back to a childhood, and university student, favourite—the humble toastie.

It’s versatile! It’s delicious! You can pretend it’s healthy depending on what you put in and who’s watching you put things in as you’re making it! It can be as fancy or as lazy as you want, and best of all, I don’t need a stovetop to make it.

(Honestly I have no idea how long it will take to repair our stove/get it replaced. We’re trying to hunt down a camping stove but so far we haven’t found it. I think it’s in the garage and I'm scared of the garage. Send us your good vibes)

The first toastie I grew up knowing was a heart attack in two slices of bread. Named the Roastie Toastie by my brother and I, it was easy to make. 

That’s it. Put a slice of bread in the machine, delicately lay down your hot dogs,  place your second slice atop and cook. I’m not going to pretend this recipe was healthy. My parents were, I believe, horrified by my brother and I’s eating habits. But it was delicious, reached right to the part of my soul that craves to eat only the most unhealthy and indulgent of foods. The bread soaks up all of the hot dog juices (oh yeah, pour some of them over the bread) and crisps in the machine. The hot dogs melt and soften in the heat. I promise, however unappetizing you may think this is, it is one of the best foods in the world.

Perhaps you want to be artisan—homemade ingredients, actual nutrients, colour in your food. For you, dear reader, I would suggest you start one day ahead of mealtime and begin by baking your own bread (assuming, of course, you’ve managed to find flour somewhere). Get some actual, named meat—perhaps an Italian sausage; pork, fennel, and as bougie as can be for a student. Use some cress, drape some finely sliced jalapenos across, go ham on your vege draw and sauce shelf.

Or maybe you’re very middle of the road—in which case you can’t go wrong with a tin of spaghetti, some cheese, and whatever bread you have lying around. You’re in charge of your own fancy food levels. 

Before I go, I want to say that I hope you all still have fully functioning kitchens and can experiment with your cooking. However, the world is your toastie, my friends. Make of it what you will.