Yesterday morning, while waiting for my toast to pop up, I found myself thinking about sliced bread.
It’s hard to imagine that, for 10,000 years of human existence, people had to slice their own bread.
According to my extensive research, Otto Rohwedder of Davenport, Iowa, invented the bread-slicing machine, but the prototype he built in 1912 was destroyed in a fire, and it wasn’t until 1928 that he had a fully-working machine ready. The first commercial use of his machine was by the Chillicothe Baking Company of Chillicothe, Missouri, who sold their first sliced bread in 1928.
Their product, “Kleen Maid Sliced Bread”, proved to be a success among people who could identify with the name “Kleen Maid”.
As a child growing up in the Great American West, I thought bread always came pre-sliced. Nowadays, however, I find a variety of ‘artisan’ breads at the supermarket, which I view as a clever ploy to sell more bread knives.
But there’s one of the problems with sliced bread: it dries out faster than unsliced bread. This isn’t a concern if, for instance, you are feeding prisoners on ‘dry bread and water’. But it apparently became a problem for the U.S. government during World War II, when Secretary of Agriculture Claude R. Wickard imposed a ban on sliced bread because “the ready-sliced loaf must have a heavier wrapping than an unsliced one, if it is not to dry out.”
Actually, he was trying to counteract the inflation of bread prices, after the Office of Price Administration authorized a ten percent increase in flour prices. But, there was also the possible shortage of waxed paper to consider. You don’t want to run out of waxed paper during a war.
The sliced-bread ban took effect on January 18, 1943. A week later, New York City Mayor Fiorello La Guardia suggested that bakeries that had their own bread-slicing machines should be allowed to continue to use them. A couple of days later, a letter appeared in The New York Times from a distraught housewife:
I should like to let you know how important sliced bread is to the morale and saneness of a household. My husband and four children are all in a rush during and after breakfast. Without ready-sliced bread I must do the slicing for toast — two pieces for each one — that’s ten. For their lunches, I must cut by hand at least twenty slices, for two sandwiches apiece. Afterward I make my own toast. Twenty-two slices of bread to be cut in a hurry!
It’s possible that this impassioned plea melted Secretary Wickard’s heart, because the ban was rescinded two months later, in March 1943. The Secretary did not credit the anxious housewives of America, however. He announced instead that “the War Production Board tells us that sufficient wax paper to wrap sliced bread for four months is in the hands of paper processors and the baking industry.”
Things have changed somewhat since 1943 — all those ‘artisan’ breads, for example — but we can still be grateful that Secretary Wickard turned out to be such a sensible politician…
…and that we still have access to that wonderful expression, “The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread.”
Anyway, there I was, waiting for my toast, and thinking about sliced bread. And I found myself wondering: what really is the greatest thing since sliced bread?
Which would mean, something that came along since the Chillicothe Baking Company sold their first ready-sliced loaves on 1928. That date eliminates a number of great things, that came along prior to 1928. Jello, for example (1897) and aspirin (1853).
But we still saw the arrival some amazing inventions and products after Otto Rohwedder invented his slicing machine. I’m sure each Daily Post reader can make up their own list, but here are the top five things that I believe to be as great, or greater, than sliced bread. In no particular order:
- Self-cleaning ovens
- Smart-wool socks
- Post-It Notes
- Drano Liquid Drain Cleaner
- Select-a-size paper towels
Thankfully, none of these items have been banned by the federal government.
Yet.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.