Bryony and the Bristol Scale at Mange Tout

16th June.

Cheese. The thing that prevents half of the world's vegetarians from becoming vegan. It is a delicious thing in all of its incarnations (apart from the plastic and vegan versions) and has brought me culinary joy on many an occasion. It has, unsurprisingly, found itself as an integral component to many past breakfasts. The inclusion of cheese to baked beans or scrambled egg can elevate these items to the next level of breakfast proficiency. Such is its influence that I and others have often wondered why it doesn't normally find a place on the breakfast menus of the cafes and bistros of the city. It was the reason that myself and Bryony headed to Mange Tout last week; here was an eaterie that had halloumi as part of its breakfast.

Bryony Huzar is a fan of cheese. I was tempted to buy her a wheel of Camembert for her birthday, maybe put a few candles in it, and I'm sure that if I had she would have enjoyed it quite a lot. She's also a fan of breakfasts. She and her boyfriend Ryan (whom we have previously met) take it in turns to make cheesy beans on toast for each other to eat in bed. It sounds as though they have got this relationship business down to a fine art, although Bryony did confess that sometimes she goes back to sleep after eating. That is a bit too hedonistic for my liking.

Bry is also one of the most enthusiastic people I know. Whenever her interest is piqued by a specific subject then she will take great enjoyment in letting you know about it, eager for you to find out about the things that she enjoys. She generally has quite good taste (well, a similar taste in things to me, which is good taste, ok) and so the things she has to say are often welcome. Coupled with this, she is one of the friendliest people I know, and always seems happy for a chat. The ideal person to be going for a breakfast with then; we would no doubt end up talking about dogs, Terry Pratchett, RPGs or Electric Six and it would be lovely.

Well, that would cover the walk to Mange Tout. Jonathan Swift's poem, 'The Lady's Dressing Room', would be how I would adapt the subject of our conversation into a form more fitting for that slick eaterie. For Mange Tout, a French cafe, was chic, whereas our conversation was base. Comparing the two would be like comparing the works of Will Shakespeare to the works of Will Smith.

I delight in such contrasts. There was something immensely satisfying about sitting in this well-to-do place discussing the importance of being comfortable with the bodily functions of others within relationships. Not being able to do so can lead to great anxiety (as Swift so eloquently conveyed in his poem) as well as physical discomfort. Many will be familiar with the pain that comes with the denial of certain regular and natural eructations and emissions. It is testament to the strength of Bryony and Ryan's relationship that they have developed their own version of the Bristol scale. This could be the answer to that age-old question so frequently yelped by Nestor Haddaway.

I have deliberately veiled the full content of our discussion. This is not due to embarrassment, nor due to subservience to Mange Tout. I could quite happily talk and write about shit 'til the cows come home, fresh from an afternoon of ruminating and making cow pats. Simply, the sensory conjurations I wish to make with this post are solely with regards to the breakfast, that noble cheese-filled dish.

And so, the breakfast:

Végétarien

Pan-seared halloumi cheese, roasted mushrooms, wilted spinach, tomato compote, two eggs any way, served on a tartine

Végétarien - £9

 I have to say, when I first saw this I was disappointed. I had just paid a titanic £9 and had been served with an amount of food that could fit on one slice of bread. It looked as though the breakfast was going to fall on the wrong side of swanky; all adjectives and not enough nouns. It was only after I began dismantling this ivory tower that I realised that actually there was quite a bit of food on there. If I had taken each individual component off of this pedestal, the tartine, and spread them across the plate, then it would certainly have shown just how much there was. Deliciously sneaky.

Hello, me...

I should start with the halloumi, since that was what had brought us to Mange Tout (I was surprised that Bry didn't opt for this actually). It was wonderful, as I had expected. Sometimes halloumi can be too overbearing; too salty, too chewy, or both, but this was ideal as a flesh option. The salt and strength of texture were spot on.

It was interesting how this breakfast managed to rework or emulate traditional elements of the cooked breakfast I am used to, and succeed in presenting them in a different way. The tartine for example, comprised of sourdough, had a texture similar to well-made toast, equally chewy and crunchy, but in its non-toasted state its taste retained more inner breadliness. It felt rustic in a classy way. Artisan. More fascinating for me though was the way in that the position traditionally held by baked beans was filled with a tomato compote. It had the same sweet tang and syrupy feel that beans have, providing an additional dimension of moisture to the dish. And again, it felt as though it was more classy than baked beans could ever be.

Eggs and mushrooms are more familiar territory for me, and these too were prepared with panache and aplomb. The way in which they were cooked really shone through, with the thick white of the poached eggs having a peppery edge, and the mushrooms having an easily discernible rich undercurrent of butter at work. Both were juicy, and cutting into the eggs furnished me with a yolk explosion. They were lush. The spinach too was also lush, with an almost milky aura to it. I usually scoff when adjectives are thrown about on menus, but wilted was spot on, conveying the soft and delicate nature of these greens.

It became swiftly apparent that what Mange Tout was doing was taking the cooked breakfast, using what combinations of textures and flavours work and excite best, and recreating it in a classier, or more refined, way. This is normally something that I try avoid; I find such reclaimings of humble, homely meals as pretentious. Here at Mange Tout though they have the chops to back up their project. They manage to get the balance between the functional and the aesthetic right, resulting in something that, against the odds, felt simultaneously homely and an extravagant treat. A rare thing. As a result this would probably be the perfect place to take someone if you wanted to impress them whilst suffering from the indignity of a flatulence-inspiring, soul-gnawing hangover. It also works fine if you want some cheese with your breakfast as well as a coffee with a tasty wee biscuit thing.

Function: really did the job, against the odds 4/5
Adherence to canon: No, but curiously didn't suffer for it
Taste: a beautiful triumph 5/5
Value: you're paying for quality 3/5
Presentation: most things look better in towers 5/5
Venue: felt well looked after  4/5

Overall: a tour de force in fastbreaking 4/5

Got to love a cheeky biscuit meringue thing with a coffee