My Wife Bought Me a Bread Box. She Had an Ulterior Motive.
A surprisingly effective marital intervention involving homemade bread, a TJ Maxx bargain, and “crumb-catching grooves.”
Linda and I do not normally exchange gifts. At all. So when she came home from TJ Maxx the other night and announced that she had “a gift” for me, I probably should have been suspicious.
She had gone to TJ Maxx for other things. There was no research project, no comparison shopping, and certainly no late-night investigation of premium bread-storage technology. She simply spotted a bread box with a bamboo cutting-board lid, thought of the guy in the house who has been baking an alarming amount of bread lately, and brought it home.
Along with it came a folding bread-slicing guide.
Very thoughtful.
Also, as I would soon discover, very convenient for the woman who shares a kitchen with someone capable of distributing bread crumbs across a granite countertop with remarkable efficiency.
The Bread Box With Cutting Board
The box itself is simple: a white storage bin with a reversible bamboo lid. One side of the lid is the top of the bread box. Flip it over and it becomes a cutting board.
And, to be fair, it is a very cool little toy.
It also fits perfectly in the “bread drawer” we already have in our kitchen, which means my rather stylish bread box spends most of its life completely concealed inside another piece of furniture.
Then I Looked It Up
After using it for a few days, I went looking for the exact model online. That was when I discovered the same Joseph Joseph bread box was listed on Amazon for about $68.
My immediate reaction was roughly: You paid HOW MUCH for a bread box?
Linda quickly restored order to the marriage by explaining that she had paid next to nothing for it at TJ Maxx.
And Then Amazon Used the Words “Crumb-Catching Grooves”
This is where the story took a turn.
One of the advertised features of the reversible bamboo cutting board is, and I quote, “crumb-catching grooves.”
Suddenly I began to understand my gift on an entirely different level.
Apparently, after years of marriage, Linda had discovered the secret to getting me to stop leaving bread crumbs on the kitchen counter: don’t complain about the crumbs. Buy me a gadget.
The Plot Thickens
Then I read the description for the slicing guide.
I had already figured out the obvious part: the guide has several sets of narrow slots that let you choose different slice thicknesses and help keep homemade bread slices reasonably uniform. What I had not realized was that the bottom is intentionally open so crumbs can fall through.
Fall through onto what?
You guessed it.
The crumb-catching cutting board.
At this point I began to suspect that neither product had actually been designed to help me make bread. They had been designed to help Linda survive living with someone who makes bread.
Does the Contraption Actually Work?
Annoyingly for me, yes.
Here is the slicer in actual use with my Healthy Sandwich Bread. No studio setup, no manufacturer demonstration, and no attempt to make the gadget look sturdier or more glamorous than it really is.
About 30 seconds of actual bread slicing in the Ross Crumb Management System.
Some crumbs fall through the openings in the base and land on the board. Some collect in the guide itself, especially around the solid areas. But the important part is what didn’t happen: the crumbs did not end up scattered across the counter.
About That “Last a Lifetime” Claim…
The slicing-guide listing describes the plastic construction as sturdy and durable enough to last a lifetime.
I am not quite ready to put it in my will.
In reality, the guide is lightweight. The vertical plastic guides are narrow, and while they work perfectly well when used normally, I could absolutely imagine snapping one if I got aggressive with the bread knife or started pushing sideways against the slots.
That impression became a little more interesting when I noticed Amazon currently identifies the slicing guide as a frequently returned item. Because of that, I was not able to create an affiliate link for it.
And yet here is the strange part: I still like the stupid thing.
It folds flat, gives me reasonably even slices at several thicknesses, works nicely with the cutting-board lid, and keeps the mess contained. I just would not confuse lightweight kitchen plastic with commercial bakery equipment.
A Small Bread Lab Side Note
There was one other interesting observation during my first week with the bread box.
A loaf of my Healthy Sandwich Bread, made with a poolish, lasted an entire week at room temperature in the box without visible mold. I am now somewhere around loaf seven or eight of this particular recipe, and several loaves have already gone to friends and neighbors with very good reviews.
But this is Bread Lab, so I am going to resist the temptation to turn one observation into a scientific conclusion. The bread box does not magically prevent mold, and one week-long loaf does not prove that the poolish was responsible for the shelf life. Formula, moisture, handling, room conditions, storage and plain old chance can all matter.
What it does give me is another question worth testing someday.
The Verdict
Do I need a $68 bread box with a reversible cutting board and crumb-catching grooves?
Absolutely not.
Do I now own one and think it is a very cool little toy?
Absolutely.
Do I think the lightweight slicing guide is going to become a family heirloom?
Let’s not get carried away.
Has Linda successfully reduced the number of bread crumbs on the kitchen counter?
I would rather not discuss that.
I thought Linda had bought me a bread box.
It turns out TJ Maxx sold her a crumb-management system.
Damn it. She was right.