I grew up on hotdogs, pb&j & grilled cheese.

So when some wonderful little elf left an exquisite LOAF of pure uncut White Bread on my porch for God only knows why, I had to take the poor waif in and protect it, piece by honkey slice piece, by putting cheese next to it, melting it, browning it up and finally letting it go into my body, specifically my stomach, where it fell asleep and never woke up. Happy Bread! Happy Belly! What’s the problem?

But seriously, who the hell leaves loaves of bread on porches? It’s quite a mystery as bread is actually quite expensive here, the doughier, chewier, ball-it-up-like-white-paste-and-gnash-your-teeth-on-it-wonder-bread-ier, the better apparently. Loaves run anywhere from 5 to 15 USD depending on the maker. This one came in a plush cardboard carryall (like a cat carrier only for bread) imprinted with gold leaf lettering the name Yamazaki Pan. Bread not being native to the islands, the Japanese usurped the Spanish -Pan or Portuguese -Pao name for it when said sailors landed here some 300-400 years ago. Then they kicked them out. “Thanks for the bread, now go away, *you smell like butter!” *(Actual insult)

Once I had the bread I had to have the cheese (to which I will dedicate its own post). Once I had the Bread and the Cheese (actually four kinds) I thought I might get a bit funky and add some peripheral accoutrements not at all unbecoming my golden loaf, so I pulled out the roasted Jalapeños, a bit of red onion and fired up the pan for a quick sauté of fennel and cumin seeds (until they begin to pop), the peppers and the onion until carmelizing begins. Without cleaning the pan, but clearing room, throw down your rough-cut white man’s destiny, several layers of cheese, your chili-onion sauté in the middle, more layers of cheese, the behind slice and squish with spatula till it feels a bit dirty. Flip after a few minutes of low-medium and do the same, but finish with a flourish and pop it, pan and all (unless you’re using a plastic handle…and if you are…shame shame) into the oven for 2-8 minutes (depending on your flame). If I have to tell you what to do next, well, maybe you should stop reading blogs so much and get out more.

In conclusion, there are also varying degrees of quality, this being the Pan that the Emperor could eat should he want to get crazy and set foot outside of his own Palatial Bakery. Unlikely that the Royal Ninja Guard would allow that should he ever be filled with such a an obviously lunatic desire. But really, isn’t ¥1800 a bit much for a loaf of bread? Even for His Emperor-ness? Maybe this is a sign of things to come. The Bush-described New World Order: Oil, Water, Dolphin, BREAD!- all luxury items too rare and expensive for us blue collar slobs to be allowed near, let alone, actually afford. Well, at least I can tell stories of the one time that I was king. When I had my own loaf and I ate it all. Slathered. In. Fancy. French. Cheese.

It’s good to be king. Now finish that Belgian Tripel!