in england it's called welsh rarebit.

last night while i was watching a show about wedding dresses, (i don't know why i was watching this, but for some inexplicable reason it seemed better than my other option, which was sleep.) i decided i wanted some cheese toast.

i sprinkled some mozzarella on a slice of bread, popped it in my toaster oven, and hurried back to the tv to watch alabama megan search for her "southern chic" wedding dress.  then my cheese toast apparently started to burn.  i opened the oven and smoke came pouring out, which was very weird because the cheese was still frozen on the bread.  then the smoke alarms went off.  all of them.  there is a surprisingly large number of smoke alarms in my little apartment.

it was 2:24 am, so i panicked, imagining my angry neighbors storming up to my apartment and pounding on my door (they are not the friendliest folks around, no matter how often i try to bribe them with cookies.)  i ran around like a headless chicken.  i ran to the windows, but then thought opening them would spread the sound better and i'd wake up all the other buildings.  i ran to the toaster, unplugged it, and blew on the smoke.  i ran to the bedrooms and looked at all the fire alarms, wondering if i could somehow disarm them.  i ran back to the windows, opened them and had a brilliant idea to get my giant fan and put it in front of a window to blow in a refreshing breeze.  while i was scurrying to the bedroom, the alarms stopped.

after turning off my lights to conceal my identity as the moron burning cheese toast at 2:30 am, i retrieved my cheese toast to enjoy while watching the brides.  (seriously, i was riveted.)  it was mostly uncooked, but i didn't want to risk putting it in my demon toaster again.   it was the most concerning and disappointing cheese toast i've ever had.  the good news is that megan finally found her southern chic dress and she looked lovely.  her mother and i cried happy tears.