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The Great British Breakfast
It is undoubtedly the British Breakfast that has made Britain Great. Whilst we would not challenge assertions that French cuisine has much to offer, one cannot seriously think that a couple of bread rolls and a cup of insipid coffee are the stuff on which empires are founded. No, a good wholesome meal is required at the start of each day in order to prepare the body and mind for the tasks ahead. For proof of this, one need only contemplate the scene at Agincourt as Henry V's gallant band of brothers prepared to face their Gallic foes. Now, as the mists rise over the marshy fields on that fateful morn, entertain conjecture of a time when...
From camp to camp through the foul womb of night
The cooks of either army with great clatter,
Do their culinary labours pursue.
Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
Each camp sees the other's umber'd face;
In high and boastful ways the confident and over-lusty French
Do the low-rated English mock and chide
As with cold croissant, a pale and trifling bread
Unworthy of the name, and rancid cheese,
They do prepare for war. Ill fodder this, for strife:
No flesh to gird the sinews, no fire to temper wavering spirit
Nor good roughage to bind the bowels.
Away across the marsh there doth arise from English tents
The ravening scents of sizzling bacon
And greater yet, the sounds of crackling pork doth fill the stilly air.
Full glorious, like some ascendant sun, eggs spit in fiery fat:
Sausages, their skins roasted as an Ethiop's, do crowd these griddles,
And luscious mushrooms, sweetest gifts of woodland night,
Vie for place with good yeoman's bread,
Deep fried in seething maelstrom of bubbling lard.
The morning cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,
And the dread hour of reckoning is nigh.
Warmed through, secure in soul, and with full fiery gullet
The English, by their watchful fires sit patiently
And inly ruminate the morning's work.
Away across the dank and freezing sod do stand ashiver
The cold and empty bellies of a lesser breed.
Unfortified for trial by nature's cold or England's steel
What chance have these, low-fat, full-skimmed, decaffeinated,
Sallow, nigh-vegan hordes to triumph over British beef ?
We are, therefore, firmly of the belief that the time honoured tradition of the great British Breakfast hath still its role to play. As befits a kingdom of such diversity, the British breakfast varies from country to country, even from county to county. Such regional delights as black pudding, jugged kippers, porridge and devilled kidneys may be encountered but the fundamentals do not: wherever one breakfasts one can be sure of a warm and hearty meal fit for a king. On these following pages we present unto you some of the breakfasts we feel worthy of the name.