And it has a certain Jetsons-like charm, despite its heft. It’s surprisingly easy to wipe down with a dish towel to restore its original glossiness. That KitchenAid quality is no joke: One Amazon review I read before the brand sent it to me for review described the toaster as “built as solid as a 1957 Buick.” I have accidentally banged the toaster around and there’s not a scratch on it. I have put it through the wringer with Pardilla family brunches, where pancake-like stacks of toast are passed around. Plus, the KitchenAid lets out an assertive beep when toast is ready - so I never have to chew through cold toast because I couldn’t hear a ding. The high-lift lever also means I’m able to delicately take toast from the top without having to play the saddest game of hot potato. First are the extra-wide slots, which have let me easily toast slices from thicker loaves. There are two features that really make the design stand out from all the other toasters I tested. I prefer a 2, which produces the perfect sundown shade I talked about above, whether I’ve put in a slice of an already brown multigrain from the bag or a hand-cut chunk of ciabatta. It’s got five browning settings, each of which is distinct 1 gives you a barely there blond, while 5 gets you to scorched territory. I use it at least three times a week and sometimes twice a day when I really don’t feel like cooking. It has popped out perfectly golden toast from the first time I pushed down the lever.

I have had this KitchenAid toaster for almost a year now - it’s the one I depend on most. Slots: Extra-wide for four slices (or a two-slice version) | Settings: Five (plus bagel and cancel) | Size: 11.4” x 7.7” x 7.7” | Extras: High-lift lever I tested (and will continue to test) a number of the models below - though I’ve lost track of how much toast I’ve eaten in the process. So I talked to fellow toast-heads to make sense of the market. (A delightful fact: The first toaster was actually invented before sliced bread in a real chicken-or-the-egg kind of scenario). There are simple, industrial models (your KitchenAids and your Cuisinarts), retro-inspired styles ( Smeg, obviously), and even avant-garde options, like an Italian-designed Alessi covered in plissé pleats. (Besides, I don’t like the sogginess that sometimes happens with a pan.) And the toasterscape is chock-full of choices, which makes it harder to know what to buy. Sure, you could make toast with a butter, pan, and some patience (as some of the folks I spoke to do), but I’m still on the side of those who consider a toaster a useful appliance to own. For one thing, it should produce a hot and crispy slice quickly - and I mean that - with a little “ding” to let you know your toast is done. So that’s made me slightly obsessive about what makes for the right toaster. Usually, I like my toast to be ombré like a sunset, with a lemon-colored center and amber edges.

I’m a self-professed toast snob, with strong opinions on things like what a crunch should sound like.

Kitchenaid meat slicer parts