A month or two ago, no one would have predicted that toasties would be back in fashion. But that was before lockdown sent us back to our kitchens, and we became obsessed with bread.
In theory, at least, you don’t need a machine to make a toastie, just two identical cast-iron frying pans. Heat both so they’re smoking hot, put the sandwich in one, and put the other one on top.
But it’s easier with the right equipment. Toastie-makers have been around in some form for about a century, but the iconic brand, the Breville, launched in 1974 in Australia and sold 400,000 units in its first year, which at that time was everybody in the nation, even children. Kidding!
Nonetheless, it was extremely popular. To taste one was to want a machine – such an elegant piece of engineering, bread crimped together, any filling – even beans – effortlessly held in place, a dainty scalloped pattern on each triangle.
If you’re lucky enough to own a Breville, or one of the many rivals, there are a few rules. You can decide for yourself whether or not to butter the inside, but you have to butter the outside, quite heavily. You want it to turn into a little pie.
And no fancy bread. Trish Hilferty, the chef-proprietor of the Canton Arms gastropub in London, learned that lesson a decade ago, when she took the toastie upmarket. "In the beginning," she recalls, "we tried to get our bakers to make a sandwich loaf to fit, but it didn't work. It needs to be plastic bread, medium cut so it'll squish down."
These are contenders for the 10 best toasties of all time.
Cheese and spring onion
The spring onion brings a splash of freshness to an otherwise head-turning furnace of pleasure. “It has to be quite a bitey cheddar,” Hilferty says, though she would use a comté or a Wensleydale on a wild day. She wouldn’t dream of using mozzarella. Some people put tomatoes in, but this is a terrible idea (they get too hot).
Haggis
The Canton’s signature toastie – it used to get through four or five large haggises a week, for 50 toasties. It has almost the right consistency – most meat ends up a bit too dry in a toastie – and where it’s not quite wet enough, that’s what brown sauce is for.
Ham and cheese
Sorry to bang on about cheese, but without it the moisture in the ham absorbs into the bread, and you get quite a dry piece of meat with steamed toast around it. I mean, it’s not as disastrous as it sounds, but it’s not perfect.
Beans and Worcestershire sauce
Do be careful, as the more liquid there is, the hotter it will get, and you can put your mouth out of action for a week if you attack it with too much enthusiasm. I would never put Worcestershire sauce on beans on toast, because it’s an interrupter. The extra crunch and fat of a toastie can take a bit of interruption.
Chicken and stuffing
This is a great leftover use, as you always think you are going to eat them cold, but never do because they dry out. I would add mustard, but only afterwards, on a mouthful-by-mouthful basis.
Feta and jalapeno
It sounds a bit unnecessarily fusion – why jalapeno? Why not an olive? – but feta is quite a different cheese proposition; it doesn’t melt as such but takes on this exquisite crumbly softness. So you want it for the texture, but the taste is a bit in-your-face on its own, and an olive will just make it saltier. The chilli mixes it up a bit.
Spiced aubergine from a jar
The vegetarian’s conundrum is that very few vegetables will work raw in a toastie, either going limp (lettuce, peppers), getting too hot and unnatural ( cucumbers) or simply being an offence to the tastebuds (avocado). And if you are going to the trouble of cooking a vegetable, that defeats the object, which is simplicity. However, if you have a Turkish corner shop, look for jars of spicy aubergine – it is magnificent in a sandwich (use olive oil rather than butter, though – brush on rather than drizzle).
Roasted pepper and anchovies
Again, peppers from a jar – don’t even think about roasting and skinning them yourself, or you will end up in salad territory and forget your mission. The anchovies can be any old anchovies, all of which are delicious. I wouldn’t put a sardine in a toastie, though – you need to be able to see what you’re dealing with.
Nutella and Snickers
Cut the Snickers into half-centimetre slices or it won’t melt enough. Don’t overdo it on the Nutella or it will go everywhere. What am I talking about? It will go everywhere anyway. The problem is mainly conceptual – this is clearly a pudding, yet who eats a sandwich for pudding? Children get past this quite easily, thanks to the marvellous agility of their fresh minds.
Banana and honey
Mashed bananas on toast are quite a quaint, wartime snack, and great for your stockpile of almost-off bananas. In a toastie, they become something a bit fancier, more like a McDonald’s apple pie that tastes of banana. Guardian.
