““He comes over and lifts the foil off the pan. I can see that it is golden and crispy, and the scent of vanilla and butter wafts up at me. Elliot grabs two forks from the bin on the counter and hands one to me. "I'll grab some plates." "Don't bother. It's just us," he says, and digs right in. What the hell. I aim for a particularly crusty bit on the edge. "Oh my, that is amazing," I say. It is perfectly balanced, rich but not heavy, just the teeniest bit of chew left in the bread, vanilla and butter and... something else... "Toffee. Crushed-up Heath Bars in the middle.””
