Breadstuck
More than one is a miracle.
Bread: plain, simple, honest … daily – yes?
No.
I’ve had a bewildering range of bread ‘experiences’.
I suspect they hold lessons on dining, business and life. Yet I can’t find a unifying theory.
If table my data, will you help me use my loaf?
The Stick
Some venues emphasise ‘stick’ over ‘bread’. Pale wands that laugh at butter and look like they’re from 1970. Bitten, they explode into a silica that absorbs moisture and glues teeth.
The Shard
This seed-studded sliver has an elastic centre that hints at dough. The impression shatters as the crust cuts in.
The Shard often comes with a saucer of olive oil that appears to have escaped from a truck gearbox. A request for butter triggers disbelief, derision and deteriorating service.
The Slice
A cornerstone of Australian pub culture, The Slice is white, single and preconceived.
Common to every meal, it mirrors its environment: brown for gravy, crimson for beetroot, yellow for cheese sauce.
Requests for seconds (or olive oil) are met with stares, swears or beatings according to age and gender.
The Solo
Native to wedding receptions, this pleasant item (pictured above) is strictly rationed to guest numbers. This is odd, given its low cost and the margins needed to cover skewed main orders.
Waiters may pretend to revisit the kitchen, but the answer’s always no.
Only via a generous partner or a no-show guest (within arm’s reach) can you win a dual. Then you must fight for another swipe at the communal butter dish.
The Multi
Favoured by family bistros, this dramatic variation of The Solo is ‘multi’ in every way.
Grain and wholemeal triple choice. A big basket lets you plunder with impunity. Cascades of butter patties complete the cornucopia.
Rare venues take The Multi even further, baking their bread, whipping their butter and presenting armloads of both at the slightest provocation.
This is the ultimate bread experience.
The Twist
This cruel subterfuge usually reveals once you’ve ordered. On asking for bread, you’re offered a dripping garlic roll, a trio of dips with pita or a home-baked Turkish loaf (with olive oil).
Stiff prices apply. No reductions or variations are permitted. Any request for dish components triggers ejection.
Trends
- The more a meal costs, the less bread you get.
- The more ‘modern’ a venue, the greater the olive oil risk.
Questions
- Why is it so hard to get a satisfying amount of bread and butter when dining out?
- Do venues ration bread to make diners spend more?
- Do other sectors use similar practices?
- What is this olive oil crap?
I now totally get why the loaves and fishes was a big deal.
I knead your help with the rest!
Paul Hassing, Founder & Senior Writer, The Feisty Empire
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LOL – Brilliant – I Doubt I could have worded it any better, you forgot one thing – the 10 day old rolls – generally served in environments were you are unlikely to complain – like wedding receptions or bistros.
As for butter – give me butter, lots of butter – 1 little ’slab’ wrapped in alfoil is not enough for a bread roll – give me two.
Thankfully one of darlings dislikes butter – so I always get his!
High praise, I_enigma: thank you! Your words, thoughts and revelations make me smile.
I would like to add a new category – The Dipping Bread. Why is the ratio of bread to the trio of dips always about 1:10?
Good one, Megan! I’m yet to meet a diner who can scoff salmon dip neat.
A Toast! To your Crummiest Post ever!
Game, Set, Match, Court, Stadium, Keys to the City and all the Olive Oil you can eat – Hassing! Love-Everybitofit!
Nice one Cob-ba ;-P
Cheers
Stephen
Thank you, Stephen. I normally eschew floury language. But I’m eating your words. You’re certainly on a roll; let’s hope I can leaven the score!
I’m on a roll?
It’s a pita…but I’m too crusty to rise to your multi-grain, metaphorical majesty 
“…eschew floury language”? ROTFL
Cheers
Stephen G
I hate the solo, I always want more of those crusty, chewy little buggers! I agree with Megan, What IS it with all that dip and so little bread? What a waste and what about the look from the serving staff if you dare to say.”Could we please have some more bread with this?”
Sorrrryyyyy was I asking you to hand over a kidney here? No, all I want is some more damn bread! You charge 32 bucks for an entree so how can another roll hurt? Don’t you know that your success lies at the feet of a same day crusty morsel??
And what’s with those little pieces of toast, they look like bread but have been reduced by 95% and made so hard that they can break a tooth. Stupid. Stick that in your offal pate!
And why ask me white or wholemeal when you know that you have already run out of white? Do you get some perverse pleasure from that?
Yeah, and while we’re on the topic if I order a toasted sandwich I at least expect the filling to be warm and there to be some colour on the bread – not a cold, soggy, unappetising mess.
I knew a guy that didn’t get enough peas and the establishment’s failure to provide an additional scoop was met with disturbing consequences.
Could a roll deficit cause someone to go postal?
Get my bread right or else I’ll open a great big industrial strength can of whoop-arse on ya. Grrrrr
Thank you, Malcolm; we appear to have struck a chord.
If you held forth similarly on 49 other topics, you’d have a second best seller in no time!
Next time we dine, I’m choosing Chinese!
Chinese is a safe bet, there’s always an abundance of prawn crackers
Too right, Megan. Is it not ironic that people known for industry and thrift should unstint the cracker barrel?! Jean Pierre’s Sur La Mer, take note!