In a life-time of ill considered spontaneous appliance purchases, Fabiola's pop-down toaster is a triumphal synthesis of entertainment, suspense and ... at least occasionally, edible browned bread (or bagels, if ya narrow them up a bit).
I, Fabiola have a stainless steel commercial four slice toaster where the bread goes in from the top, as usual, but when the cycle is complete the newly toasted toast shoots out the bottom, hits a plate and almost always takes one bounce, sideways, mostly.
How many of you knew that leaping toast has hang time?
That hang time is a slow motion spiral during which the Fab's hand reaches out in an attempt at preventing toast from landing in the sink, or glancing off the counter edge and ending with a crispy scrunch on the floor. All in all, Fabiola prefers oatmeal in the morning, it stays put.
I, Fabiola have a stainless steel commercial four slice toaster where the bread goes in from the top, as usual, but when the cycle is complete the newly toasted toast shoots out the bottom, hits a plate and almost always takes one bounce, sideways, mostly.
How many of you knew that leaping toast has hang time?
That hang time is a slow motion spiral during which the Fab's hand reaches out in an attempt at preventing toast from landing in the sink, or glancing off the counter edge and ending with a crispy scrunch on the floor. All in all, Fabiola prefers oatmeal in the morning, it stays put.