A Short Essay on Croutons

You know, I like croutons. I’m very picky about them. The quality of a crouton can make or break a whole meal to me. I’m not sure why but maybe it has to deal with the way I feel about croutons. You see, when I see a crouton…I see everything. I see the universe. I see the journey every human takes to become what they will forever be.

A crouton, like everything, starts as nothing. It is then created out of the basic fundamentals of the universe. We grow grain, a very basic plant. This grain, like humans, is then cut. Harvested from the natural world and brought into our personal creation. The crouton, in its early stages of life begins to become influenced by things it’s surrounded by, perhaps flour or yeast. It then becomes a part of a whole, a small piece in the loaf.

Now it is time for the crouton to become what should and can become. It is again, cut, taken from the whole as its own substantial piece. Then it begins to take its own form. It response to oil, heat, and seasonings completely differently than the others in the batch. Then it becomes its final product.

It can be so many different things at this point that I refuse not to acknowledge its individuality. In the end all the croutons are consumed in one manner or another. I just wonder how I taste.