So...Every Tuesday, Swimmer and I dine out midday.
It started out as a lunch gig, and then, I had a hankering for breakfast late one Tuesday, so we went to nearby Jam. It is a sister restaurant to Toast. They both specialize in brunch...which usually means they serve alcoholic drinks like daiquiris and mimosas. Today, I had no interest in booze, but I did have a hankering for a waffle.
I zeroed in on Jam because I'd seen their waffle offering the previous visit. They had Belgian waffles (here, that means large, deep pocket, waffles, served on a plate, not for handheld consumption, like the real deal) in standard and gluten-free offerings, with an array of additional amendment selections. It always came with butter and maple syrup. I ordered mine with strawberries and whipped cream on the side, and an order of crispy bacon and two eggs, over medium. And, a cup of coffee, to which I added cream.
It was exquisite.
It did determine that the strawberries and whipped cream were unnecessary embellishments; the butter and maple syrup were just fine to produce the exquisiteness. The coffee was a superb 'high note' to the meal.
Once you accept that pancakes go with bacon and eggs (which they do if savoury), and you accept that pancakes go with maple syrup (which they do, on their own), and you put them on the same plate for whatever reason, there is no limit. Maple syrup directly on your bacon? Why not. Jam on your sausages? Why not. An apricot and walnut Danish with black pudding and kippers? Bring it on.
Post by raspberrybullets on Oct 8, 2019 9:36:05 GMT
Brits have a very weird take on breakfast. Possibly the weirdest. I can understand a pastry in continental Europe. I can get behind soup and rice in Asia. Brunch in Melbourne is sublime. But Brits want cold toast!
The sight filled the northern sky; the imensity of it was scarcely conceivable. As if from Heaven itself, great curtains of delicate light hung and trembled. Pale green and rose-pink, and as transparent as the most fragile fabric, and at the bottom edge a profound fiery crimson like the fires of Hell, they swung and shimmered loosely with more grace than the most skillful dancer. ~ Northern Lights
Yeah. Me, too. It goes directly to the same bin as the Marmite.
I had a friend ask if I'd ever had 'the real deal'. Not knowing what that was, she informed me that 'Dundee marmalade' was the result of a shipwreck scavanged for its rotting cargo and that cargo subsequently transformed in to marmalade and foisted upon the world. It's something of a typical Scots making do....when life hands you vast amounts of free oranges, you make marmalade. It evidently lives on as James Keiller & Sons marmalade.
What else does one do with a literal shipload of rotting oranges?