Breams on toast probably isn’t as outlandish as we initially believed it to be, but we’ve committed to this post today and, thusly, we’re going to have to write it. Thankfully, it keeps in line with a number of “stuff on toast” related posts of late: peas on toast and, of course, who could forget beans on bread?
It’s a complex situation we’re in as we’re veering wildly towards veganism, yet we’ve not been able to abandon our infatuation with all things fish related (particularly sushi). Call us communists if you must, but we’re here to lecture you about why fish and bread work well together. You’ve all had tuna sandwiches, right? So now’s the time for breams on toast – just be aware this is no sandwich. Okay?
Breams on Toast
For this recipe, you’ll need a bream or two and some floppy bread (which you’re required to make not floppy – a toaster will do the trick there, or failing that your flame thrower). Cook your bream as normal in a steamer, on the hob, under the grill, or in the microwave, and get your flamethrower on standby in case your toaster malfunctions (here’s hoping, because we love cranking that dangerous thing up).
This recipe simply wasn’t stomach churning enough so we decided to offer poor cooking advice in order for it to reach the appalling depths of some of our other horrendous recipes. Indeed, and the best way to do this is to overcook the bream and lace the toast with nothing except its intrinsic dryness.
Indeed again, breams on toast is intended to leave you dehydrated, delusional, and (following these initial symptoms) delirious with shrill giddiness. This recipe is banned in most counties, incidentally.
To ensure this recipe is as dry as an elephant’s tusks, simply overcook everything – this includes leaving your bread in the toaster until it states to let tell-tale wisps of smoke bubble forth. Once this develops into a steady flow (i.e. when it begins belching forth huge plumes of black smoke) eject the toast and you’re ready to dine!
Breams on Toast?! More Like Shattered Dreams on Toast!
We do admit this recipe is as a tad dry, but so what? We’re sick of things being not dry. Cooking’s all about perfection, you know, and pursuing succulence and, frankly, this disgusts us as decent human beings. Thusly, breams on toast shall instil some humility on the world with its thirst promoting attributes and general horribleness.
This isn’t to dismiss breams as horrible, of course. It’s not up there with sea bass (“Kick his ass, Seabass!”), but it is a fine fish all the same. As for breams on toast, we’re really proud of how disgustingly below average this recipe is. It’s not even adequate, it’s just this thing which exists that you’ll never make and, my word, you should be thanking us for warning you about it.