Why I Like Toast So Much

I’ve always loved toast. Not just in the casual way most people enjoy it, but in the deep, comforting, predictable way that makes it one of my favourite foods. As an autistic man, toast has been more than breakfast—it has been a grounding ritual, a safe texture, and a reliable taste in a world that often feels unpredictable.

Toast is simple. Bread, heat, done. I don’t have to think too hard about it or second-guess the process. There’s comfort in knowing that every slice will more or less turn out the same, and if I want more control, I can choose how brown it gets. That sense of predictability matters a lot when other parts of daily life can feel overwhelming.

The texture is just right. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. For me, that balance is soothing. Other foods can be too mushy, too slimy, too crunchy, or too noisy to chew. Toast is consistent and kind to my senses.

I also love the versatility. Toast can be plain when I need something gentle, or topped with butter, jam, avocado, or Vegemite when I want variety. It doesn’t demand too much of me—it adapts to what I need in the moment.

And there’s a sensory rhythm to it: the smell of bread turning golden, the pop of the toaster, the warmth in my hands, the satisfying crunch. These small details give me joy and help anchor me when the world feels loud or chaotic.

Liking toast “so much” might sound silly to some people, but for me, it’s a reminder that simple pleasures matter. It’s a food that has never let me down, and in its own way, it has supported me through many mornings, late-night snacks, and moments when I just needed something steady.

Toast isn’t just food—it’s safety, comfort, and a small piece of happiness that I can return to again and again.