16
full
English
or
17
The only way to eat well in
England is to have breakfast three
times a day
goat omelette?
Somerset Maugham
by Phil Bryant
Left: The ultimate full English?
What’s for breakfast? How about
mashed boiled plantains? No? Goat
omelette, maybe? OK, not that either.
Slow-cooked fava beans, then?
To British tastes, greeting the new
day with such delights may seem a
bit strange, but not to the people of,
respectively, the Dominican Republic,
Ghana and Egypt. For them a bowl of
cornflakes and milk, or a boiled egg with
soldiers, would seem equally alien.
Wherever in the world we are, breakfast
– a word first recorded in 1463 – is an
essential part of the day. As a word its
origin is simple enough - we can’t eat
while we are asleep, so we fast, albeit
involuntarily, until we break it with the
day’s first meal. If only all etymology was
so simple.
Our great affection for a good old
traditional fry-up, known colloquially
throughout the land (well, almost) as
a Full English, often transcends our
knowledge that far healthier options
are available. This is why we may ration
ourselves to one at weekends, or to
when we stay in a hotel or B&B (an
abbreviation that means only one thing
in Britain, unless you were a Beavis &
Butthead fan!).
Breakfast has inspired some memorable
quotes. That grand old man of letters,
Somerset Maugham, had the meal taped
when he said: “The only way to eat well in
England is to have breakfast three times
a day.” Then there was novelist C S Lewis
who rather biblically observed: “He that
but looketh on a plate of ham and eggs
to lust after it hath already committed
breakfast with it in his heart.” And it was
an old German proverb that advised: “Eat
breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince,
and dine like a pauper.”
Of course, it’s not just kings who can
eat regally. Some years ago, when Her
Majesty The Queen started wearing
glasses, to illustrate her new look, one of
the tabloids published a photo of her with
them on. The caption read: “The Queen,
seen here at breakfast”. Nothing wrong
with that, you might think, except that
she was also wearing her crown. It must
have been quite a breakfast to warrant
getting out the ceremonial headgear!
The Full English
Most commercial establishments,
whether swanky hotel, modest B&B or 
18
‘greasy spoon’ café, are likely to offer a
Full English, typically of eggs, bacon,
sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms and
fried bread. Thankfully, there is no British
Standard, thus permitting the addition or
subtraction of any item, depending on the
establishment you’re eating in, where in
Britain you are, and what you actually like.
This freedom from official
standardisation can cause controversy,
however, with some insisting that a Full
English isn’t complete without, say, baked
beans, while others would protest at the
absence of fried potatoes. It would be
interesting to know how many different
combinations are offered by the 3100
establishments in this guide.
AA Egg Cup-holder Jennifer Coombes
runs Hollow Tree Farm near Wells
in Somerset. Her breakfast, which
“absolutely delighted” an AA inspector,
consists of a choice of 14 cereals, fruit
juices, fresh fruit, eggs any style with
three rashers of bacon, sausages, vine
tomatoes and mushrooms, and “oldfashioned” bread, or croissants. “I charge
far too little, but it’s a great way to start
the day,” she says.
Cross-border breakfast
Regional differences soon become
apparent to anyone who travels around
the country. Black pudding, for example,
although associated more with the north
of England, could quite easily appear on
your plate in Truro, Chelmsford or even
Llandudno in North Wales, where the
Welshness of Christina Ward’s cooked
breakfasts at Glenavon Guest House is
impeccable. Her black pudding, however,
is Scottish!
Traditionally, Welsh breakfasts include
laverbread, a seaweed purée mixed with
oatmeal, formed into patties and fried in
bacon fat, but it can be hard to find on
B&B menus, even in the south of the
country where it comes from.
North of the Border, your Full English
(perish the thought that it should be
called that!) might include a lorne slice,
which is a kind of flat sausage, Ayrshire
(sweet-cured) bacon, or even haggis. The
“Highland breakfast” offered by Margaret
Capsomidis, an AA Friendliest Landlady
finalist in 2008, includes locally grown
raspberries (available virtually all year
round), and a fry-up with black pudding
made by her Aviemore butcher to a recipe
passed on by her neighbour, a former
Scottish black pudding champion. Anyone
who asks for baked beans, though, will
“ruin their breakfast”, she says.
Porridge, of course, is inextricably
associated with Scotland, although it is
popular throughout Britain, especially
in winter. Your Caledonian hosts may
well give it a lift with whisky (putting paid
to all that nonsense about the sun and
yardarms).
In his book Great Railway Journeys,
actor, comedian and writer Michael Palin
travels along what has been called the
Cholesterol Coast of Northern Ireland.
This rather unfair soubriquet was coined
in recognition of the Ulster Fry, the
marvellous cooked breakfasts served in
the seaside hotels and B&Bs of Antrim
and Down. But think of it as just another
Full English, with perhaps the addition
of farls, little potato scones cooked on a
hot plate.
The Poor Relation?
Health considerations apart, our
breakfasts more than stand their ground
against the Continental breakfast, an
often-lacklustre croissant or brioche,
accompanied by a pat of butter, a
mini-pot of jam and a cup of coffee.
Depending on your location, you may
also find salami or ham, slices of soaplike cheese, a bit of fruit, or occasionally
a hard-boiled egg. Frankly, though,
Continental breakfasts don’t cut the
mustard in the same way as ours at least,
when served in Britain.
Which brings us neatly to condiments
and sauces. In addition to salt or pepper
to taste, no Full English is truly complete
without a splodge of tomato ketchup,
a dollop of brown sauce, or a smear of
English mustard. There are also those
who will absolutely insist on drizzling
everything with Worcestershire sauce,
although the bottle may have to be
painstakingly unearthed from the back of
the sideboard.
Of course, none of us would have to
worry about where the Worcestershire is
hiding if we didn’t eat a cooked breakfast,
but let’s face it, boiled plantains simply
aren’t in the same league. l
This freedom from official
standardisation can cause
controversy