The Great British Breakfast


Imagine a plate of food served up to you at 8am, with the sun steaming through the whispy clouds.

Rashers of sizzling bacon, plump sausages, fried tomates, beans, eggs sunny side up, potato croquets or has browns if you will, mushrooms in butter, fried bread, toast on a side plate, a hot steaming cup of coffee and some fruit juice. A Full English breakfast. They say the entire british empire was nurtured by this hearty meal, everyday during its 300 year reign.

To you and I in this enlightened world, we may see it as a coronary waiting to happen, and would recommend 30 minutes on a stairmaster. However, in the days of the british raj this was not an option. Instead they used to hunt lions so thats nice.

As I sat in the cafe at Gatwick Airport, on the grubby seats and sugared table waiting for my Egg and Bacon toasty, I watched the esteemed group of various gentlemen that patronised the ‘Greasy Spoon’, and my thoughts went back to this image of 18th century Bristol filled with sailors looking to gather new booty from the Americas.

The sandwich finally arrived, and the only way to describe it was dissapppointing The bacon was limp and gristly, the egg yolk was congealed, and the barely toasted toast, was dry and stale as if the penicillin had only just been scraped off. There was no sign of butter or mayonnaise, tomatoes or lettuce. The coffee was weak and sourly burnt my lips with its insipid taste. I have no idea how many bacteria resided in the china chips.

Thats when it occured to me that Britain really is a nation of shopkeepers, and they dont go to work on a hearty, traditional full english at all, but instead go to work on a diet of shrivelled up sausages, rancid eggs, and a tomato so mushy that they’d give Halle Berry a run for best oscar acceptance.

Thank god I ate my cornflakes before i went.

The small businessmen and manual workers however, devoured every last morsel down to the final crumbs of buttered bread, as they sat and chatted with bonhomie and jus de vive.

Clearly I will never be a millionaire in Britain… for a start they’re clearly all too French!

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~ by eggplantinspace on August 2, 2008.

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