I had fried chicken, mashed potatoes & gravy along with a salad for my first meal of the waking hours... which was really strange, seeing as how I don't usually eat entire meals like that unless I'm with family during the holidays.
I read the text off of a blog aggregator. Did not see the picture till I came here. I pictured huevos con jamon, frijoles refritos y tortillas. You haven't been in Los Angeles long enough. You want chips and salsa with that?
Mike Phelps' breakfast:three fried egg sandwiches, with cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, fried onions and mayonnaise, followed by three chocolate-chip pancakes; a five-egg omelette; three sugar-coated slices of French toast and a bowl of grits (a maize-based porridge), washed down with two cups of coffee.
Ahhh, now there's a breaky! With a nice cup of strong English tea, one could do anything afterward, well after a nice lay down. Proper bacon, but pity the chips aren't chunkier, but no mind, it's a thing of quintessential beauty!
Being somewhat loyal to Alta California, I consider any time in Los Angeles to be long enough. I do have some fond memories of breakfast in Venice Beach. I'll bet, if you looked hard enough, you could find someone there who has your dream breakfast on the menu.
I guess Duke's on Sunset could serve me something similar, but it would come with a slice of orange, and nothing can match the saturation of that old English lard.
Lard yes, but there is a sublime Zen to the English breakfast. The bacon must be proper bacon, not streaky bacon, but rather succulent sides of porcine beauty, something like Canadian bacon, but much better, preferably Irish. The beans must be Heinz, the real UK kind, nothing else is satisfactory. The chips, oh lord the chips, they should be chunky, crisp on the outside and oh so potato on the inside. The English chip is a sublime creation of the human spirit, a thing of true beauty. The eggs, well good eggs please and on the runny side for the yolk. I'm actually rather fond of a black pudding and fried tomato as well, might as well have the full on fry up.
Now after all that, I must stress that this isn't for every Sunday, but as a treat for your soul, you absolutely positively must have a proper full on English breakfast.
It's one of those cultural things, sort of like menudo to the un-initiated.
Monday morning I had sausage, egg, black pudding, bacon, potato scones, beans with toast and tea all courtesy of the local cafe. Artery blocking delight as sustenance for another week working for the Man.
I had fried chicken, mashed potatoes & gravy along with a salad for my first meal of the waking hours... which was really strange, seeing as how I don't usually eat entire meals like that unless I'm with family during the holidays.
ReplyDeleteI read the text off of a blog aggregator. Did not see the picture till I came here. I pictured huevos con jamon, frijoles refritos y tortillas. You haven't been in Los Angeles long enough. You want chips and salsa with that?
ReplyDeleteYou might as well open up your chest with an X-acto knife and pack that fucker around your heart.
ReplyDeleteSwimming anyone?
ReplyDeleteMike Phelps' breakfast:three fried egg sandwiches, with cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, fried onions and mayonnaise, followed by three chocolate-chip pancakes; a five-egg omelette; three sugar-coated slices of French toast and a bowl of grits (a maize-based porridge), washed down with two cups of coffee.
Now that's what you call a breakfast. (And I've been in LA quite long enough. I just wax nostalic for Anglo grease of a Sunday morning.)
ReplyDeleteYou realy think Farren fears a heart attack?
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteAhhh, now there's a breaky! With a nice cup of strong English tea, one could do anything afterward, well after a nice lay down. Proper bacon, but pity the chips aren't chunkier, but no mind, it's a thing of quintessential beauty!
ReplyDeleteBeing somewhat loyal to Alta California, I consider any time in Los Angeles to be long enough. I do have some fond memories of breakfast in Venice Beach. I'll bet, if you looked hard enough, you could find someone there who has your dream breakfast on the menu.
ReplyDeleteI guess Duke's on Sunset could serve me something similar, but it would come with a slice of orange, and nothing can match the saturation of that old English lard.
ReplyDeleteCalifornians in general have a fear of lard.
ReplyDeleteLard yes, but there is a sublime Zen to the English breakfast. The bacon must be proper bacon, not streaky bacon, but rather succulent sides of porcine beauty, something like Canadian bacon, but much better, preferably Irish. The beans must be Heinz, the real UK kind, nothing else is satisfactory. The chips, oh lord the chips, they should be chunky, crisp on the outside and oh so potato on the inside. The English chip is a sublime creation of the human spirit, a thing of true beauty. The eggs, well good eggs please and on the runny side for the yolk. I'm actually rather fond of a black pudding and fried tomato as well, might as well have the full on fry up.
ReplyDeleteNow after all that, I must stress that this isn't for every Sunday, but as a treat for your soul, you absolutely positively must have a proper full on English breakfast.
It's one of those cultural things, sort of like menudo to the un-initiated.
The joy of the fry-up is unequalled.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't have said it better myself. (But why do I have these chest pains?)
ReplyDeleteYou lived too long in Southern California.
ReplyDeleteA fine food post Doc40!
ReplyDeleteMonday morning I had sausage, egg, black pudding, bacon, potato scones, beans with toast and tea all courtesy of the local cafe. Artery blocking delight as sustenance for another week working for the Man.
Black pudding, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
ReplyDelete