An appointment with Amo at Marion's Cafe

January 25th.

Toast and marmite. A most glorious combination. If pressed for time, my ideal breakfast is two slices of toast and marmite with a glass of cold orange juice. The contrast of the marmite's bitterness and the sharp sweetness of the orange. The melting of the spread or butter into the bread, the crunch of the toast giving way and falling away in your mouth like a collapsing arctic coastline. Mmm. Heavy heady flavours. Yet the amount of marmite one uses can be problematic for some. Spread too much on and it can become an overwhelming experience. Spread too thinly and there's not enough on your plate to make much of an impression. You've got to be careful with marmite. Getting the balance right is a fine art.

I personally don't have this problem, as for me there is no such thing as too much marmite. Canada also doesn't have this problem, but for different, more sinister reasons. I have been beset by a similar issue though with writing; recently I was struck with the writing bug and inspired to work heavily on a story I have been hacking away at. This was great, but it has taken me away from this breakfast blog. It was good to have a break from the fastbreaking, as too much focus on writing about this one topic can burn me out, but now returning to it, a month on from the last breakfast I ate, and my notes appear like a foreign language to me.

Take these scribbles for instance:

"Pregnancy vitamins good for growing hair > Tina Fey > Big Momma > Water > Fave Drink"

I can remember that Amo had said that her favourite drink is water, but couldn't remember the links backwards. A swift bit of internet research revealed that Fey was in a film called Baby Mama, linking with the pregnancy vitamins, but still the anecdote trails runs cold for me. I would imagine that Amo would be able to piece together this puzzle, not least because she brought the subjects up, but also because she has the incredible skill of being able to draw reference and link to pieces of conversation from much earlier on in the day with uncanny ease. Sometimes she's almost as good as Poe's Dupin. Twin this with her indomitable knowledge of pop culture and celebrity and you have a very useful member of a competitive quiz team.

Amo wanted to pay a visit to Marion's Cafe as she remembered having some incredible fried potato there once before, and wanted to see if they were still serving such delights up. I had walked past Marion's many times on my way to and from football training at Preston Park, and I was excited to have the opportunity to finally see what it was like inside. My guess was that it would be a classic greasy spoon, and as we made our way there my fingers were crossed that my hunch would prove to be well founded.

My hunch proved to be well founded. It was a classic greasy spoon set-up with two particularly endearing factors. The most immediately noticeable one was the Liverpool shrine behind the counter; when going to order breakfast our gazes were met with prints of Dalglish, Barnes, and Fowler, hanging above a shelf holding a large figurine, possibly of Steven Gerrard, wielding a Liverpool flag as though it was a gladiatorial trident. Pinned to the shelf was a large, bright red scarf, burning with all the passion of the denizens of the Kop. It was nice to be in a cafe that wore its heart on its sleeve.

The second endearing factor was Marion herself. I didn't get to meet Joe in the last cafe I went to but there was no avoiding Marion, she was standing right behind the counter. She was wonderful. Within 5 seconds she had forgotten what I had just ordered (whilst elsewhere demonstrating a great memory for the orders of cafe regulars), she assembled my coffee with all the dexterity and grace of a rugby prop, and finally forgot to give me cutlery and a serviette whilst giving these to Amo shortly beforehand. It was all incredibly exciting. Would I be served what I asked for, or would I be presented with a steak and a stack of waffles?! I waited with bated breath.

And so, the breakfast:

Vegetarian

Egg, 2 vege. sausages, hash browns, mushrooms, beans or tomatoes, toast

Vegetarian - £5

Phew! All present and correct. Marion had done her job, conveying my order to the kitchen, and done it well. It was a decent amount for what I'd paid, but how did it taste? Had Marion translated the longing that burned away in my eyes into a request to the chef to make the most delicious breakfast the cafe had ever served?

Ultimately it was a bit of a mixed bag. Some components were just what I was after, and others disappointed me with their indolence. For every plus point there was a counter-acting minus, nullifying any good work that had been done in the kitchen.

Marion is visible in the upper frame

There had been some overcooking. The toast, a single slice of white bread, was soft but had a slight burn to it. The mushrooms had been fried in oil and were left without much taste at all. Both components were the victims of cooking too swiftly and at too high a temperature. This may well have been the fate of the sausages too, which had pleasantly crispy exteriors which encased a mushy and vague vegetable interior.

There was heartiness to be had though. The beans in particular were delicious, providing a taste that was warm and salty like a tearful hug. The hash browns were impressively sized, and hit similar notes to the beans in a more wholesome way. Here the crispiness complimented a good taste, rather than masking a poor one.

The egg had a pleasantly thick albumen, but the casing of the yolk was perhaps slightly too solid, as it exploded out sideways following a confident probing. The taste was satisfying in a methodical way, but may have been disappointing if it had been on a plate surrounded by flavours of a higher quality.

There were positives to be had in this breakfast, but overall it was more Sotirios Kyrgiakos than Sami Hyppia. In other, non-Liverpool FC terms, the breakfast was hit and miss, though largely functional, rather than brilliantly memorable (I might have to start using "Hyppia" as an official breakfasting term). I greatly enjoyed my visit to Marion's Cafe, but in a manner similar to my enjoyment of John Barnes' rapping; there was a whimsy to it, verging on novelty, and it certainly couldn't lay claim to critical success or getting my world in motion.

Function: not enough doing it for me - 2/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: lots of flavours AWOL - 2/5
Value: cheap - 3/5
Presentation: arrayed decently, no overlap - 3/5
Venue: the world needs more Marions - 4/5


Overall: Marion, you'll never walk alone, but there is room for improvement - 2.5/5

Catching up with CJ at Joe's Cafe

January 19th.

The day had finally come. It was something I had been putting off for a little while, and rarely does a trip to a particular cafe for breakfast to write about it have much gravity. But when you've been hearing about the refurbishing of a place, have had friends actively working to start something up, and you are aware of how much has been invested in it, and how such a cafe has become people's lives, then, then there's a wee bit of gravity. And you can't just go rushing into somewhere for breakfast when there's some gravity involved; you've got to wait and let the gravity get its act together, and have all the objects stop floating around in space and settle down on the ground. Then it is apt to go for a breakfast and chronicle your time there. 19/01/14 was when the time was right for me to go, with Santiago, to Joe's Cafe.

I would also be going for breakfast with CJ Hopkinson, recently returned to Brighton and sadly without her dog, Percy. It was her that originally got me into the whole "meeting up with people for coffee" thing that was an influence on the formation of this breakfast project, and so it was great that she was back in town and around to do some fastbreaking with. She is also one of the best people I know for chattering on about random idiosyncratic esotericisms. An' shit.

Like Extreme Ironing. As someone who enjoys fun and games such as tree-climbing, as well as being well-versed in the homely arts, I would have thought this would be a true calling for her. Apparently not. She would like to have an ultra-foldable ironing board if she was to embark on this pursuit. Foldable not so much in the style of a folding bike, but foldable like one of these extending boxing gloves. What is that form of extending called? If anyone knows, please post the answer at the bottom of the blog. If anyone would like to sort out a Kickstarter campaign to create one of these ironing boards for CJ that would be great too.

We also had a nice wee chat about live performance, particularly music and comedy, and how important improvisation is. A live performance is a singular event and it is apt and correct for it to offer something different, something singular, from the recorded performance. As well as doing this, improvisation illustrates how adept the performer is in their chosen field, if they are able to offer something that is enjoyable and entertaining that they have created on the fly. CJ recently saw Paul Foot perform in Brighton, and in a set that seemed to be half planned, half improvised, it was the improvised half that shone the brightest. It is the importance of improvisation that means that I will always rate Ross Noble higher than Bill Bailey in the stand-up arena, despite the obvious skill and intelligence that the lovely Mr. Bailey possesses. From what I've seen of their live DVDs, Bailey reuses jokes and songs time and time again, whereas Noble loves nothing more than going off on an audience-inspired tangent. Bill Bailey might be a lovelier chap, but I'd rather see Ross Noble in the flesh.

Just like Bill Bailey, Joe's Cafe had a lovely feel to it (that was my attempt at an improvised link). It reminded me of one of my favourite pubs in Brighton, the Barley Mow, which feels more friendly and inclusive than any pub I've ever been to, catering to all tastes and ages. The only thing Joe's needs is a good collection of board games and you've got the cafe equivalent. It's quite small, so there's not much space for wild dances of celebration, but that's a minor quibble. They've also decided to use the word "breaky" on their menu, rather than using the spelling "brekkie". I would personally go for the latter, as their choice of spelling has some rather unsavoury non-breakfast connotations for me... Whether or not this is a minor or major quibble though is a matter of taste.

And so, the breakfast:

Veggie Breakfast

 Veggie sausage, portabello mushrooms, toast, beans, slow roasted tomato, fried egg

Veggie Breakfast - £5.50

As Santiago has never met Lynsey, it would again fall to him to come to my aid; the Passepartout to my Phileas Fogg. He also drew a picture of CJ for the blog. I'm not sure why he gave her a Viking helmet, I guess that must be artistic license.

It is very nice to be asked to write the food review again for this blog. I have been lucky to write about two very delicious breakfasts! Let me describe why!

First of all, I think that there was some great seasoning here. There was some oregano involved, and pepper, with the tomato, eggs, and mushrooms. Yum! The tomatoes and mushrooms were religious. Their textures were fleshy, and along with this passionate flavouring, they were strong; I think the word English people use is lush, like the power of the smell that comes from the Lush shop near North Street. Slow roasting the tomato and using Portabello mushrooms made an impact.

Unsure about this Viking helmet

The eggs and the potato were cooked very well also, with the egg white  having a nice shiver to it, with the yolk flowing over it like the waves on the beach. The potato reminded me of good English chips. These were good to have as there were lots of fleshy and juicy things on the plate that need something to soak them up.

Oh man, and the sausage! Again another great sausage! I wonder if they have been Brighton Sausage Company sausages? This was another expert one, meaty and peppery. Estupendo.

And then, yes, two very English things! Beans on toast! Did you know that 75% of the world's baked beans are eaten by the British? Crazy! These beans had what James calls a very good tang. The toast was lovely as well, juicy from being given butter before served, but also crisp as well, from being toasted well. The crisp toast was great, as it was a different texture to the other foods. What wonderful food.

Thanks, Santiago. I don't think I know any more chefs, so that'll probably be the last we hear from him for a while, unless I take him for a breakfast at some point. Who knows? In any case, he's done a fine job writing here. I should just highlight the joy of receiving bonus potatoes which were not mentioned on the menu, as well as the jolly presentation of toast, which formed either a heart or the ace of spades depending on how sentimental/into card games you are. Lord knows what it looks like if you're into sentimental card games, but it probably look nice all the same.

Joe's Cafe is a place with warmth that hits you immediately, and the effort that the people there are going to to make it an engaging cafe really comes across strongly. As soon as they realise that they need to change their spelling of "breaky" there'll be no stopping them...

Function: smile inducing and cockle warming - 5/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: great mix of textures and flavours - 5/5
Value: good price for quality food - 4/5
Presentation: looks purdy, with extra cute toast delivery 5/5
Venue: lovely and cheerful, only lacking in extra space - 4/5


Overall: an udder superb place to visit around Seven Dials - 4.5/5