See, I like mine still brown, bordering on burned, starting to smoke. I mean why call it toast if it is NOT toasted, right?
My wife enjoys hers at the point of just beginning to turn the slightest bit of just barely, only slightly, not quite ... anyway, you know what I am saying. To make toast for this family requires a delicate hand.
Same goes for pancakes, cornbread, French toast, salmon patties, crab cakes or anything else that one might prepare on a griddle and call toasted. I like mine dark. She likes hers light and yet we seem to have made a sort of life together.
I take half the credit for my masterful prowess at creating toast and offer her ninety percent of the credit for our success at marriage for her great sense of humor.