Waffling with Will at the Mad Hatter.

 February 16th.

This was to be the first real test for the breakfasts of Brighton and Hove. I was hungover. Not only that, but I was hungover having had three hours of sleep and then two hours of football training. It is occasions such as this where the cooked breakfast is most sorely needed. When the human soul is at its lowest ebb, when the individual is plunged into existential crisis following the reaching of a spiritual nadir. The Mad Hatter was about to take part in the mother of all fastbreaking acid tests.

Situated a few doors away from my previous breakfasting establishment, the Mad Hatter was suggested by Will Spicer, a teammate of mine at Kemp Town FC. On the pitch, Will is best described as a warrior, fully committed to battling foes both on land and in the air, always relentless in bringing his formidable strength to bear. He is a warrior more in the mould of Sun Tzu though, rather than your typical Sunday league Attila the Hun. He is cerebral, a footballing philosopher (or should that be philosophising footballer?). Off the field he is a man of words, delighting in the wonders of language. In fact, he should be correctly labelled here as a logophile. He especially likes interesting words such as logophile.

The Mad Hatter is an interesting venue, straddling the line that separates the coffee shop from the cafe. It has sofas with low tables for the hot drinkers, and higher wooden affairs for your hot meals. Large windows allowed a lot of light in, creating a positive atmosphere. The Mad Hatter, as you may have picked up from the name, also has a vague Alice in Wonderland theme going on, with various pieces of Carrollian paraphernalia littering the walls. I was particularly pleased by the mugs they used, coming with the words "Drink Me" written on the inside. It had a homely feel which was underlined when the couple sitting next to us felt able to interrupt a discussion about the anti-apartheid protests down the road to hand us some leaflets and explain the Ecostream protest some more to us (although we were already aware of what it entailed). Well-intentioned, yes, though perhaps not the time or place.

Will had previously expressed enthusiasm at this project (breakfast that is, rather than the Ecostream protest), and that was what I was going to need whilst nursing a grievous existential crisis. Warm encouragement and infectious good cheer, within a friendly and welcoming environment. As luck would have it, this was precisely what I got, along with some delightful appetizers in the form of excitingly random trivia. The relationship between Real Madrid and General Franco, the hand gesture used by Germans to insult Dutch football fans (relating to the five victories they've had against them in penalty shoot-outs), Shostakovitch's compositional battles with Stalin's government, the Estonian Singing Revolution. Sport and leisure and politics; these would be the themes of Saturday 16th February. The Estonian Singing Revolution arose in conversation following a brief discussion of our favourite flags (mine is the flag of Zheleznogorsk and Will's is the flag of F.Y.R Macedonia), and how I quite liked Estonia's, as European flags with black in weren't common. Will quite likes flags with circles on them. I would wager that he would definitely have an affinity for Uganda's were he to come across it.

There were also some musings about words. A pride of lions, a murder of crows, a parliament of owls. What about cows though? How about a kine!? Terrific! Another thing to ponder in the realm of language is how in English all our words for genitals are either scientific or considered rude and/or infantile. Not so elsewhere. The tantra word for penis, for example, is lingam, which translates from Sanskrit to 'wand of light' . What does this say about us as a society? Is this a symptom of 'British introversion'? Is this the same in Japanese, a language from a society that shares similar cultural restraints to Britain? Will described Japan as "the Britain of the East," and this is something I'm going to have to discuss with my cousin at some point. I may also have to ask him if the similarities between the two societies cross over into breakfast territory. What do the Japanese have for breakfast on a hangover?

And so, the breakfast:

Mad Hatter Brekky

Choice of eggs (scrambled, poached or fried), veggie sausages, hash brown, beans, grilled tomato and toast, bagel or english muffin. Includes regular tea or filter coffee.

Mad Hatter Brekky - £6.20

I was immediately taken aback by the choice I had. This was the first time I had been presented with options within the menu item. As I hadn't had poached eggs in quite some time I opted for those, but in hindsight when it came to choosing my bread I should have gone for a muffin. It's not everywhere that puts a muffin on your plate but alas, the occasion got to me and I went for the safe and familiar.

As you can see, the bread option was served on its own separate dish. Initially I was displeased by this as I like to integrate my toast into the breakfast swiftly, but discussions during the week have led me to re-evaluate my position on the matter somewhat. This subsidiary plate meant the toast was unsullied by the other breakfast components until the time that I saw fit to sully it. For those who prefer their toast to maintain independence at all times this is a good way of delivering it.

Will, eager to tuck into his Eggs Benedict Royale

The toast itself was tasty, artisan bread, crunchily prepared, and formed a firm base for the other, moister items to be eaten from. I was pleased by the poached eggs, as the initial incision into them provided a rich flow of yolk that was not too overbearing. The whites were smooth and soft, providing a neat contrast with the rougher fuzz of the toast. The tomato was also cooked well; its juices were sweet and its flesh supple with a measure of self-restraint.

Kudos should also be given for the sausages. Many establishments will offer the single veggie sausage, often feeling like an afterthought or consolation. Here, the Mad Hatter seemed proud to be purveying vegetarian sausages, providing two of ample girth and thickness that raised the hearty factor up a couple of notches. There are two camps of vegetarian sausages; those that aim to emulate their meaty relatives and those that aim to forge their own path (notably Glamorgan sausages). These sausages were certainly near the top of the former class.

The man of the match though had to be the hash brown. Looking at the picture it seems insignificant, similar in size to the tomato and dwarfed in volume by its multiple breakfast contemporaries. You would think that the beans would be the playmaker of this dish, considering the generous helping of them I had been given, but in fact it was the other way round. The beans let the side down, bringing a mundane taste into play when flair is what the spectators pay to see. It was akin to packing a five man midfield with workhorses. This meant that the hash brown was given space to dazzle. Normally you can rely on your hash browns having a reassuring potato taste to them, positioning them firmly in the realm of the carb. This one, however, allowed the flavour of the onion to run wild. Normally it is the more repressed of the hash brown flavours, and it was a delightful surprise to have it present in the meal. It took this particular hash brown away from the drudgery of regular carbohydrates and made it something special.

Looking back at the breakfast, the Mad Hatter have gone for a relatively simple breakfast and have aimed to provide quality rather than quantity. This is something they've achieved across the board, apart from the beans. I love my beans, so this was a bit of a downer, but I was able to get over this due to the high standard of the other components. Sure, this meant that a wee element of adventure was missing, but when you're nursing an existential crisis you don't really want to be challenged. This was precisely the kind of thing I needed. Hats off to them for providing it.

Function: averted existential catastrophe 5/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: all tasted superb, just let down by the beans 4/5
Value: apt pricing for the quality  3/5
Presentation: well thought out, especially with the extra toast plate 5/5
Venue: table was wobbly and too close to other tables, but otherwise lovely 4/5

Overall: again, hats off to them - 4/5

Eating with Ed (joined by Jasper) at Montpelier Cafe

February 3rd.

During the weekend before last I had a pleasant opportunity to fit a second breakfast in. Edward Knight was visiting Brighton on Saturday evening and interested in meeting up. The only time I was free was Sunday morning; the optimum time for a cooked breakfast.

Ed is a big deal round these parts. Whilst he lived in Brighton studying he was a key member of FC Søren Kierkegaard, my 5-a-side team, and later played bass in our band, The Sneaky Frog and the Scoundrel, where his bass parts would often form the starting point for our songs. The highlight of our short existence was when someone at a gig bought our EP for £40. This will probably remain the greatest amount of money I ever make as a musician.

Ed has another key string to his bow however;  he is now a published author. Writing is something that we normally talk about when we see each other (not so often now that he lives in London) and so it was unsurprising that this was on the table today, especially as this was the first time I had seen him since For Myra, For Iris was published. He told me about an instrument he owns called a charango which is traditionally made from armadillo shell (reportedly made by South Americans as an instrument small enough to conceal from Spanish conquistadors under their ponchos), but the most exciting thing we spoke about was his idea to start up a press.

Dark Windows Press, publishers of his book, are a very small-scale operation. As a small as one man pretty much, according to Ed, and the cost of a small run of a novel, say 50 copies, is around £250. Relatively cheap. With something like this, self-publishing, there is always the worry of people considering it to be a vanity project. But hey, we printed a small run of the Sneaky Frog and the Scoundrel's EP and managed to sell one copy (amongst others) for £40. What kind of vanity project does that!!?? (the purchaser was not, as far as we're aware, a relative or estranged lover) So, once we've got ourselves some new books written this will be the next step, and if anyone reading this would be interested in this future project then drop us a line.

We were also joined by Jasper, Ed's friend whom he was visiting the previous evening. Jasper is currently approaching the climax of a PhD around the area of international relations at Sussex Uni. Once finished, he may or may not become a vigilante called Viper Ninja. Together, these guys pack an intellectual punch. I can't quite remember what we started talking about first; mime artists, the economy or smoking, but the three are intrinsically linked. I'm going to be arranging a stag do imminently, and part of me is tempted to orchestrate it as a mime stag do, with only a phantom binge taking place. An interesting theory that arose from the discussion was how miming smoking would incur nearly all the same benefits as smoking (the social aspects) without any of the downsides (everything else). Fortunately we decided not to experiment with miming a cooked breakfast.

And so, the breakfast:

Vegetarian XL

2 falafel, mushrooms, 2 fried eggs, 2 hash browns, tomato, beans, toast

Montpelier Cafe Vegetarian XL - £5.45

I must admit I made a wee mistake when I ordered this one. It looks like it comes on a replica of Alan Partridge's famously big plate. I had originally planned to order the 'Vegetarian'; a smaller meal for £4.95 which was listed as "2 falafel, mushroom, egg, hash brown, tomato, beans and toast, with tea or filter coffee." Due to communication breakdown I ended up ordering the biggest vegetarian option possible (there was also a smaller third option), which was probably just as well as I'd already had two coffees by this point. This should hopefully convey the wide options available for the consummate fastbreaker. Indeed, this was my first encounter with a breakfast option that included a hot drink as part of the deal. A promising sign.

There were lots of promising signs really. The gingham tablecloths were a promising sign. The fact that this place had caught Ed's eye on the walk home from the pub was a promising sign. The fact that this place was listening to Heart FM (or something of that ilk) was a promising sign. These are all things that comfort me in a breakfast environment.

Another promising sign was the inclusion of hash browns. These are my favourite component of the cooked breakfast, and here they did not disappoint. Tenderly crisp on the outside, soft and gentle on the inside. This quality of cooking was mirrored in the other components; the egg yolks yielded gently to probing and warm yolk flowed bountifully, beans were hot and moist yet not too runny, the mushrooms and tomato pleasingly juicy. These classical components were in peak condition. Perhaps they could have had a bit more power to their flavours, but all in all everything was in the right place. And ultimately if one could argue that the flavours on show were unexceptional then there was one component that made up for this.

Ed and Jasper. Ninja Viper and Viper Ninja.

The inclusion of falafel in a cooked breakfast was an alien concept to me, but once I had actively experienced it I understood where the Montpelier Cafe was coming from. In terms of texture it fitted into the middle ground between the sausage and the hash brown, and in terms of flavour it perhaps brought something to the table that exceptional sausages often do. Specifically here the falafel had a strong minty edge. It added another dimension to the breakfast without stepping too far outside of the box, like adding a strange, minor seventh chord into an otherwise predictable song structure in 4/4 timing.

This was the formula for the Montpelier Cafe's success. It did all the basic things very well indeed, and then added a couple of embellishments to take things onto another level. A hot beverage coming with the smaller meal. Falafel. It was little touches like this that really made this a great bit of fastbreaking. At a price that was significantly lower than the previous places I've visited, I am curious as to the extent which location effects cost around these parts. We shall see. For the time being though, the standard has been set.

Function: not only feel-good food but giving a little something extra 5/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: everything was one could hope for, yet with surprises to be found 4/5
Value: accidentally spent more than I meant to yet still felt like a bargain 5/5
Presentation: looks a bit like a face, always a good thing 5/5
Venue: could have done with a wider variety of table-sizes but this is nitpicking 4/5

Overall: the breakfast bar is set - 4.5/5

You can buy Edward Knight's debut novel, For Myra, For Iris, here.
Jasper recommends the following films: Natural Born Killers, The Devil's Backbone, Tokyo Sonata, Adam's Apples, Howl, Humboldt County, Mulholland Drive and Nothing to Lose.
You can listen to incredible debut EP, Me Too, I'm A Painter, from (formerly) Brighton-based band, The Sneaky Frog and the Scoundrel, here. Should you so wish you can purchase it as well, for any amount you wish from £3 to £40 and beyond! Definitely worth a listen. Real good. Yeah.

Spending Time with Simon at Kemp Town Bistro

Simon Troupe and Duffy. A team.

February 2nd.

For the next couple of months these reviews are going to be inevitably tied up with football, seeing as I tend to have training on Saturday mornings and matches on Sundays. It was on the way home from training this Saturday that my next breakfast outing was scheduled. Whilst catching up with Simon during the walk back from Preston Park I mentioned the project to him. As he had yet to eat that day he suggested paying a visit to Kemp Town Bistro. It was as easy as that.

When it comes to people I've met since living in Brighton, Simon is one of the people I've known the longest. On the rare occasions that I have ventured into Brighton's dark underbelly, Simon has usually been present, giving plenty of encouragement, advise and compliments along the way. He is one of the best people I know at boosting morale in this manner (albeit usually under the influence of alcohol) and would probably do well as a motivational speaker. Since moving from an unsatisfying job at the Post Office to a satisfying job at a recruitment company I haven't been seeing him as much as previously, so this was a rather jolly opportunity to chew the fat some more, after discussing job satisfaction, annoyingly long television series, the enjoyment of learning and how great dogs are on the road up to Queens Park. He recommended watching The Secret Life of Dogs, narrated by Martin Clunes. That link will be active for a month, so best get in there quick if you are a fan of canines.

Simon had suggested that we go to the Kemp Town Deli and Bistro (I'll just refer to it as the Bistro as that was the part of it we used) as he had had positive food experiences there before. As a fan of positive food experiences this seemed like good advice, so after post-training showers the two of us, accompanied by his wee dog, Duffy, strolled down there for some fast-breaking.

The place is divided in two; on the one side you have the deli counter offering an exciting selection of cheeses amongst other things, and opposite this is the bistro. Forgoing the cheese for today, we sat down and began contemplating our orders. We were swiftly informed that due to high demand earlier in the day there was a slight delay of 20 minutes on any hot food orders, giving Simon a chance to collect some dry cleaning before we engaged with the food. I remained behind with Duffy, perusing one of the many newspapers that were available. This proved to be one of the main sources of Simon and I's entertainment that afternoon.

I can't remember which publication it was, but one of the dailies contained one a great piece of work from their display desk. A story about an Irish tycoon supposedly kidnapped by the Russian mafia and tortured for owing both them and the IRA money was positioned beautifully next to advert for free Penguin children's books, including works involving luminaries such as Peppa Pig, the Moomins and Spot the Dog. It almost looked as though Peppa Pig was working for the Russians, with her looking down with intense anger at the photograph of the tycoon. There was fire in her eyes. It reminded me a bit of the story of what inspired The Smiths to write 'Panic'; hearing Wham's 'I'm Your Man' immediately after a news report on the Chernobyl disaster. It also almost made me want to pursue a career in journalism. We had such a pleasant time nibbling at the newspapers that the 20 minutes passed swiftly.

And so, the breakfast:

Kemp Town Bistro Vegetarian Breakfast

2 Veggie Sausages, Fried Egg, Beans, Tomatoes, Toast 

Kemp Town Bistro Veggie Breakfast - £6

Look at those baked beans. This was a good start. A much more traditional breakfast, adhering fully to the canon and providing each component in decent quantities (2 tomato halves and 2 sausages is good business). The highlight here was the egg, fried to give the white a soft solidity yet leaving the yolk joyfully gooey, perfect for dipping the sausages into. As the photo shows, the toast was laid out ready and waiting with butter in place. The breakfast was a picture of action, eager to impress. Simon's rosti with chorizo, visible at the top of the picture, also looked juicily appetizing.

Duffy discussing Angela Carter.

Kemp Town Bistro needed to keep its composure though. Perhaps due to making us wait early they felt as though they needed to make it up to me and Simon by serving us as quickly as possible. There was a sense that certain elements had been rushed. The tomatoes, though abundant, were still quite firm and were slightly reticent to yield their sweet juices. The beans, though present, were merely warm rather than heartily hot. You can see from the stalk length of the mushrooms that these too were cooked swiftly, and perhaps could have benefited from having a bit more time to absorb the heady flavours of whatever it was they were cooked in. As it was, these three things were nice, yet not brilliant. Decent rather than exceptional. If I was to put the 'scathing food critic' hat on again (a hat not dissimilar to a viking hat) I could say that the eagerness to impress here was akin to a pre-pubescent teenager wearing aftershave. I'm not going to though.

The reason for this being that the Kemp Town Bistro was a delightful place to eat in. The layout was homely, with condiments readily provided and salt and pepper (along with newspapers) always being in easy reach. The table coverings also added to this feel, putting me at ease and making me comfortable. The atmosphere rubbed off on both the staff and customers and we (mainly Simon) had opportunity to exchange pleasantries with both during our time there. Although being eager to please can be a slight problem sometimes, on the whole it usually means that you're going to go into something with the right attitude. This visit was a great example of how a positive atmosphere can really improve the overall eating experience, elevating something that on its own is merely decent to downright enjoyable.

I learned another thing through Kemp Town Bistro's atmosphere, and that is the power of the dog. Many eateries would forbid dogs but Simon was allowed to happily bring Duffy in. The staff were delighted by her and all of the waitresses found time to come over to introduce themselves to her. Some could refer to a pet dog as a chick magnet. I'm not going to. I will be making enquiries into borrowing Duffy at some point in the future though.

Function: satisfyingly homely, yet less hearty 3/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: decent was the watchword, though top egg 3/5
Value: suitably abundant for the price 3/5
Presentation: no nonsense, meant business 3/5
Venue: delightfully friendly and caring 5/5

Overall: if the meal had been as warm as the service this would have been a real winner - 3.5/5

 

Seeing Stu at Spinelli

January 27th.

On a sunny Sunday the Breakfast Club project kicked off, unlike my regular Sunday morning football fixture which had been postponed due to bad weather. A slightly ridiculous decision considering how pleasant the morning was, but one that allowed for the first cooked breakfast of the project to be undertaken during the traditional hours of fastbreaking. The morning's target then, rather than Brighthelmstone FC, would be Spinelli Coffee, a cafe in Kemp Town.

My companion for the morning would be Stu, one of my housemates. Stu is a top guy, certainly one of the nicest people I have been fortunate enough to meet, and his cheerily creative disposition has made sharing a house with him for the past 9 months pretty swell. After both ordering vegetarian breakfasts we took our seats at the side of the cafe and settled down to chat over our respective tea and coffee. Conversation began with having a look at how 2013 was treating us thus far, moving onto the utilisation of archetypes and a literary model in conflict resolution, ending up with discussing living in various places via the topic of synesthesia (the inspiring conversation regarding archetypes and literature inspired me to write a wee piece around the subject here).

Stu is a man with itchy feet. I would eat my hat if he didn't return to see out old age in grace within his beloved Argentina, probably with a beautiful Lebanese story-teller/peace academic spouse by his side. So confident on this fact am I that if I get a tax rebate this year I will purchase a replica viking helmet without any fear that one day I might have to try ingesting it. He is also a creative inspiration, being someone that enjoys writing as much as I do. I managed to get quite a lot of good ideas for storytelling from him over that breakfast which hopefully I can bring into my writing. I never fail to feel invigorated talking to other writers, but I feel just a wee bit more energized after chatting with Stu. I also get the feeling that I should go live in Inverness at some point. I've had a decent breakfast up there before, so it could be a winner.

And so, the breakfast:

Spinelli Vegetarian Breakfast

Scrambled eggs, mushroom, onions, green peppers, spinach, tomatoes, cheddar cheese, sweet potato and rosemary mash, toast. 

Spinelli Vegetarian Breakfast - £6.95

Their website actually lists the meal as consisting of "scrambled eggs with mushrooms, onions, green peppers, spinach, tomatoes and cheddar cheese, served with sweet potato and rosemary mash and toast," (my emphasis there) which was not precisely what the menu suggested. Unless my eyesight was misleading me, and if this was the case then I apologise. Regardless of what was written, I was not anticipating the majority of those breakfast components being incorporated within the scrambled egg. Still, it made the breakfast feel compact. The other notable first impression was that there were no baked beans. Suggestive of the cafe's North American leanings, it was a bold decision that immediately set this apart from the usual. Would sweet potato mash be a fitting substitute for Britain's favourite side?

Ultimately, I'm afraid to say that I missed those baked beans. The mash was tasty, and provided a sweet contrast to the rest of the dish but its softness was too similar in consistency to the scrambled egg, and the flavour lacked the usual sharp tang and different texture that baked beans usually provide. The other ingredients in the egg were slightly lost and I couldn't really distinguish them after a few mouthfuls. It was a homogenous mass that scorned the myriad of individual names on the menu. Sure, it didn't taste bad, on the contrary it tasted fine, but it felt as the whole thing was holding back. As though there was an army of flavours pounding away at the gates but not being let in and onto my tongue. The toast element comprised of two pieces of lightly toasted bread which was crisp and worked well with the tomato and mash, the sweeter components.

Stu Alley. Writer. Dreamweaver. Visionary.

Extra kudos should be given to Spinelli for swapping Stu's toast for a gluten-free alternative without any fuss. The service in general was decent and we received our meals relatively swiftly. My gripe with the cafe itself is a purely personal one, with regards to the aesthetic. It doesn't strike me as a breakfasting venue really. Rather than feeling homely and heart-warming, qualities I desire in the overall breakfast experience, it feels as though it's trying to impress. As you can see from the poor quality photo, the meal was beautifully presented. Again though, the presentation felt like a barrier to what I was trying to experience, the rich flavours of the homely enacted in food and venue. There were no squeezy bottles of condiments on the tables, and salt and pepper were provided in neat little grinders. It didn't feel like a place to be eating breakfast, rather a place to be clinically conducting an operation. What sort of operation, I'm not entirely sure, but perhaps one that involves paging a client or closing a deal. The kind that means leaving the heart out and getting down to business.

This isn't the kind of place I'm looking for. Not for breakfast at any rate. I went there previously for coffee and cake with some friends and had a lovely time, though again that was down to the quality of the cake (superb carrot cake, moist, sharp and abundant) and the quality of the companionship (hopefully Michael and Ian will make appearances on here later on in the year). The cafe itself welcomed us in with Franz Ferdinand's second album which I enjoyed. I love Franz Ferdinand. I love their Scottish charm, wry humour and the way they want me to move my hips. Spinelli also love Franz Ferdinand. They love them so much that they decided to play the album a second time. And then a third. It was as though a malfunctioning robot had been put in charge of the music. That, or there was only one CD in the cafe. Another example of a lack of 'human heart' perhaps.

I feel as though this might all sound a bit too negative, bordering on scathing criticism. Perhaps, but only because I seem to have very particular expectations when it comes to a cooked breakfast. What Spinelli provided was technically good, looked wonderful and was cooked decently. The overall experience of the meal though, despite the high-level of conversation my companion provided, was just not proper fastbreaking. Had it have been a lunch then I would have been very satisfied. A case of style over substance, mayhap? If you're going to try and look flashy, best have some flashy flavours to back you up. The lack of genial warmth was key, as was the absence of baked beans.

You can probably equate genial warmth with baked beans should you wish to.

Function: not really life-affirming - 2/5
Adherence to Canon: where them beans?! - No
Taste: decent, but lacking a little something - 3/5
Value: needs a bit more if you're pushing £7 - 2/5
Presentation: looked swish without pretension - 4/5
Venue: not an ideal fast-breaking environment - 2/5

Overall: conflicting style over substance, needs more beans - 2/5