tosto

English merges these two and Esperanto splits them, which is the gift. In English, the bread under the grill and the speech before the wine are the same word, and learners of English have to be told that they are unconnected. They are not unconnected - that is the joke - but they behave as if they were. Esperanto took the two senses from two different places and gave them two different roots:

• Rosti is dry heat on food. Rostita pano is toast, the thing on the plate, and rostilo is the toaster.
• Tosto is the drink raised in somebody's honour, and tosti is to propose one.

Two roots, no overlap, and you will never write the wrong one by accident. It is a small illustration of something the language does well: where English has let one word drift across two meanings, Esperanto usually keeps the meanings apart, because the borrowing happened after the drift and it could choose.

The history is better than the tidy version. Seventeenth-century English put a piece of spiced toast in the cup to improve the wine, and the person being honoured was said to be the toast floating in it. The bread came first, the ceremony second, and by the time the word reached the rest of Europe only the ceremony travelled. So Esperanto's tosto is the English drinking word, and its rosti is Germanic and older, and the two halves of the English pun arrived in the language by separate doors.

What you actually say. Je via sano! - to your health - is the standard toast, and je is the vague preposition doing the work it always does. Je la sano de la gastoj, je nia amikeco, je Esperanto. Toasti also appears in print for the verb, alongside tosti; both are read without difficulty, and proponi toston avoids choosing. Tostoparolado is the speech itself, and at an Esperanto banquet it will be longer than you hoped.

The neighbours. Festeno is the banquet, glaso the glass in your hand, trinki the verb, and sana the adjective sitting inside the toast itself.