Repelling Vampires

Back home there’s a man named Kelly who throws neighborhood barbeques so fancy, they’re called soirées. The best part about a Kelly Soirée™ (for a less-than-enthusiastic carnivore like myself) is the garlic bread. It’s the perfect mix of dry and moist—not crumbly like a cracker, but also not cool and damp in the middle like mine always turns out when I don’t leave it in the oven long enough.

On New Year’s Day I was fortunate enough to attend a Kelly Soirée™, and even more fortunately, I was standing in the kitchen during the garlic bread preparation. Fearing that I might be kicked out of the kitchen if the Kelly family knew I was spying, I acted nonchalant, didn’t make eye contact with the bread, and didn’t ask for details.

Here’s what I know, though: they slice a loaf of French bread in half lengthwise, like they’re about to make a hoagie sandwich for a giant. They place both halves on the grill and turn them into toast. Then they bring the giant’s toasted hoagie bun inside and slice it into normal garlic bread-sized pieces. Finally, they fry the dry pieces of toast in a pan with a very shallow pool of melted garlic butter.

I’ve tried this a couple times in the last month and I’m totally addicted. I find myself making garlic bread in the middle of the day for no good reason. Who knew their secret recipe could be so easy?