Breafast a deux

Despite having a serviceable loaf, Clare has returned to muesli with extra coconut shavings and milk. This was a welcome break from all that dough. Clare drank Rooibos tea, for a change.

Steve had crumpet. Which sounds a bit rude. The crumpet had honey on top. As in, 'honey, would you like some crumpet?' All in all, a hilarious breakfast of puns.

another one 06/09

Will had coffee, a banana and a yoghurt (strawberry).

Steve had toast and honey. The yakult regime is having no discernible effect as yet, although stools have generally been firmer if that is one of the outcomes.

Clare had a high-level executive breakfast meeting. This included still water, green tea and fruit salad with mixed nuts and French yoghurt (from a glass pot, apricot flavoured). One of Clare's breakfast companion started the meal with a Diet Coke. She proved to be American.

more breakfast 4/9

Clare is still working her way through last week's rye sourdough loaf. This morning, two slices were toasted and eaten with nutella and raspberry jam. Clare first covered these toasts with Flora, which she had really only bought for baking, but it does spread better than butter straight out of fridge. Clare drank tea.

Taking advice from a doctor, Steve has started on a course of Yakult. The idea is, you have one every day and it improves your stomach bacteria. Since there are enough bacteria in the human gut to reach the moon, Steve isn't entirely sure a shot glass of ofpink goo will help but he's willing to give it a try.

reporting breakfast 1/9

Feeling a little worse for wear, Clare continued her dual toast theme, today spreading one slice with raspberry jam and the other with peanut butter. Being somewhat unfocused this morning, Clare allowed both slices to burn slightly under the grill. Clare drank tea.

breakfast is back in full swing 31/8

Like a diseased rabbit, Clare had mixingmetoasties this morning. On a piece of organic rye sour dough Clare had raspberry jam. On a slice of bread-maker wholemeal she had Nutella. Clare drank tea.

Will has just returned from three weeks in Brittany, northern France, where everyday he feasted on incredible breakfasts featuring vanilla yoghurt, pain au chocolat, fresh bread from Mme Dupont's Boulangerie, coffee, a madeleine and a cigarette. This morning he brought a taste of France to Peckham, London with his remaining store of vanilla yoghurts and madeleines.

Steve has just returned from Edinburgh where he found the only cafe in the city that served buttered cinamon bagels with honey. It is proving hard to find something similar in London. A new coffee shop in Leather Lane proved disappointing - no cinamon, just toast, banana and a low grade coffee. Boo.

Mix yourself a spiffing serving of this week’s cocktail to read by.

BLOODY VIKING
Not only a superb accompaniment to arising first thing in the afternoon, but also a way of ingesting bothersome vegetables. Stand out from the lackadaisical crowd with this gentleman’s twist on a firm favorite.

2oz aquavit
4 oz tomato juice
3 dashes Tabasco
6 dashes Worcestershire sauce
½ tsp horseradish sauce
½ tsp celery salt
10 or so twists of freshly ground white pepper
A stick of leafy celery

Pour aquavit over ice into a medium sized glass, about half way up the glass. If it doesn’t reach, simply add more aquavit. Top this with tomato juice and add the remaining seasonings. Mix well using the celery and leave it sticking out of the top of the glass like some sort of vampiric shrub. Serve in a hot sauna with a berserk grin.


Hello chums,

This week finds your humble dramatist entertaining here at Farquharson Plantations. My dear brother in law, Lord Charles Rey De La Conejas, is paying us a visit from the frozen north. As cultural ambassador to New England, he stoically perseveres to bring the good word of gourmandizing to a people apparently bereft of taste buds.

Thankfully, he is quite the expert when it comes to breakfasting here in my adopted country so we looked forward to a splendid Sunday, “brunch.” (Brunch, it seems, is an American meal, served between breakfast and lunch, somewhat akin to elevenses, but in more substantial portions.)

Lord Carlos announced his decision. Much to our surprise, he had decided on a French bistro!

Naturally, I remain somewhat suspicious of French cuisine, particularly as it has done little to advance itself over the years and especially in the field of breakfast. The delicate creations of Auguste Escoffier have been overshadowed by mass produced croissants and pain au chocolat, tedious coffee accompanied by noxious cheeses and Golden Revolting apples.

So it was that we gaily motored over to The George Hotel (15 E Street NW, Washington DC 20001: Telephone America 202 347 4200), which houses Bistro Bis. Much to my delight, my concerns were rapidly alleviated as we entered the elegantly designed hotel, minimal yet stylish Corbusier-like fashion being the order of the day. The theme continued as we sashayed into Bistro Bis and were promptly seated by the maitre d’hotel. The high ceilinged room allowing free circulation of cool air past art deco prints that are easy on the eye. In fact, it looked very much the type of place a gentleman could breakfast.

Our waiter, Norman, arrived with a gracious snap of efficiency. The first thing he would do was offer me a breakfast cocktail, a mimosa, screwdriver or bloody mary perhaps. Oh joy! Oh rapture! Norman, my eternal blessings on you fall for the almost unheard of delight of a breakfast cocktail. So it was that I kicked off the day with a superb bloody mary. Lady Farquharson’s request for fresh lemonade sent a young fellow straight to the juicer, lemons in hand.

The menu was a deceptively simple but perfectly executed affair. Lord Charles claimed that the ham on his plate of ham and eggs was the best ham he had had in many a ham filled year. In fact, it was very difficult to get any other word than, “ham,” out of him for the rest of the day. Lady F plumped for eggs Florentine, the famous treat of perfectly poached eggs and sautéed spinach was playfully accompanied by an amusement of field mushrooms, whilst I opted for omelet Monte Cristo, simply accentuated with Gruyere and the celebrated ham, achieving perfect harmony between flavor and texture. All accompanied by jolly good Lyonnaise potatoes and the able ministrations of good man Norman, myself, my good lady and Lord Charles had a thoroughly delightful brunch and my suspicions of the French were alleviated for a few hours.

Bistro Bis at The George, I doff my panama to you. Hup hup huzzah!

Until next week, I have the distinct honor to remain your most humble breakfast correspondent,

Gideon F Farquharson, Esq.

breaking fast on 16/08/06

Clare toasted the remainder of a small ciabatta bap (bought from the Italian grocer's near work), spreading half with honey and half with peanut butter. Clare drank tea (early grey) with a slic of lemon.

Stephen was travelling down to London from Edinburgh via a small turbo prop airliner operated by Scotair. His booking did not entitle him to breakfast. Due, however, to the incredibly complicated security arrangements dogging air travellers, he was advised to arrive two hours before the flight. Neither the airline staff nor the rest of the passengers had taken this advice, leaving Stephen plenty of time to enjoy a chocolate croissant, orange juice and weak, milky coffee at a faux-French concession stand called Pauls (sic). Once in the air, Stephen added two shortbread biscuits and a second orange juice - although this may techincally have been elevenses.