Jump-starting the blog with Josh (later with Lou) at Cafe Motu

19th October.

After an extended half-time period over the summer it was time to kick off again in search of more exciting and tasty breakfast opportunities. It felt a bit weird at first, slipping the notebook into back pocket, making sure to put pen in the pocket without the holes, not eating too much upon waking up. It almost didn't happen; Saturday's breakfast was dependent on the cancellation of football training. Due to a lack of numbers, myself and Josh (and Lou it turned out) were bereft of morning action, and so, finally, after several aborted attempts, we finally made it to Cafe Motu for breakfast.

Josh is one of the most important players for Kemp Town FC. Not only is he (at the time going to press) the 2^nd highest goalscorer in the history of the club, as well as the winner of multiple end of season awards, he is also an important part of the club's social fabric. A club is more than just 11-14 individuals thrown together every Sunday to play football; the social aspect is also integral. Josh represents a strong side of what I would say makes KTFC a special team to be a part of. To begin with, he looks esoteric. He looks like the 60s/70s. A lot of the time, opponents shout “Fellaini!” and “David Luiz!” at him, but perhaps a more simple and (dare I say it) original label would be to shout “60s/70s!” As a keen musician playing regularlyin several bands, he is a counter-cultural icon within the Sussex Sunday Football League, opposing the brutal mundanity that is Jonesy who likes a bit of banter oi oi foootbaall who are ya you fuckin melt. That's not how we operate at KTFC. Rather than that brand of 'banter oi oi foootbaall you melt' behaviour, we take pride in learning the capital cities of the world. Jon Ablondi managed to chat up a girl one night with the successful application of the capital city of Eritrea.

Anyway, Josh was disappointed that Cafe Motu had changed hands recently. No longer were the walls furnished with pictures of Dylan and Bowie sitting around and eating sandwiches. Instead, more familiar pictures of chic locations and other brutal mundanities clad its walls. And the table was wobbly. We also spent a bit of time bemoaning the state of British culture. Josh has recently been bit by a serious reading bug and has been racing through classics such as Catcher in the Rye, Down and Out in Paris and London, and The Great Gatsby, making him outraged that drivel such as the poorly, poorly written 50 Shades of Grey (a book whose opening three pages (all I could bear reading) make my shoddy efforts at culinary journalism look like Shakespeare re-writing Ulysses) can make millions. I chipped in with a little rant about people not realising that a world of music exists outside of radio playlists, and our exasperated moaning continued. Then Kings of Convenience came on and Josh perked up.

Whilst we were worrying about what it is best to eat before a football match we were joined by Louis Browne. Lou is the captain of KTFC and another key member of the team. You could view him and Josh as the ventricles and atria of the club. Possibly. In any case, there's no denying the amount of heart they possess... Lou would go on to provide supporting analysis during the breakfast, rather like a hungover Andy Gray.

And so the breakfast:

Motu's Vegetarian Breakfast

2 eggs, full tomato, 2 hash browns, mushroom, toast, 2 vegetarian sausages (with beans or avocado)

Motu's Vegetarian Breakfast - £5.45

After being asked if we were ready to order three times without success, we finally placed our orders and were rewarded with a rich bounty. My first excitement came with seeing that I had been given both beans and avocado. This was to be an exciting first step into the world of the avocado at breakfast, and a step that I knew I should have taken years ago. We were also offered some ground pepper, from one of those grinders that are normally half the size of the waiter wielding them. Nice individual touches that made me feel special, a positive start to the breakfast experience.

Lou says: "Best ever cappuccinno."

Kemp Town FC's beating heart

There was also some secret toast, hidden beneath the eggs. This was another pleasant surprise, helping contribute towards a plate that was fuller than it first appeared. It also contributed to one of the main characteristics of the meal; an imbalance towards dry items over the moist. This meant that in the latter stages of the meal, additional condiments were required.

The abundant dry items tasted superb. Along with the toast I was served some champion sausages, emulating their meaty counterparts with great efficiency, and some lovely crispy hash browns. Three top components. Unfortunately they did not receive the back-up they deserved from their colleagues. The eggs had soft whites and syrupy yolks, but did not put out as much as others have done in the past. Whilst the tomato had a sweet and yielding soft outer layer, the core was firm and did not ally itself as much as it could have done with the rest of the dish. The beans provided support which was salty, stern and strong, but they were not plentiful enough to carry the numerous dry players. Perhaps in the absence of further beanage came the avocado, and although it offered a different and exciting texture and coolness, there was still a slight gap. Finally, the mushrooms, served drily with a pure and honest taste. Longer cooking would have provided more flavour and moisture, as would have additional seasoning. In the end they were merely a competent component.

Lou: "Unbelievable mushrooms, best in Brighton. Better than my mum makes."

The problem of the dryness could have been solved either with a larger portion of beans, or by cooking items such as the tomatoes, mushrooms, and egg differently. Sure, there's nothing wrong in needing to use the red and brown sauces in order to get maximum enjoyment from your breakfast, but I prefer it when a breakfast is self-contained and self-sufficient. The sauces detract from what makes the breakfast unique and special, covering up any idiosyncrasies with sharp homogenous flavours.  Still, it tasted good, and more importantly made me feel good. Inches away from glory. It left me thinking, what if? With some extra beans and some photos of David Bowie, how far could Cafe Motu have gone?


Function: warm jets everywhere 4/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: largely good, but dry 4/5
Value: very good amounts for the money 4/5
Presentation: bright and chirpy 4/5
Venue: warm and eager to help 4/5

Overall: a good place, but could have been great - 4/5  

Appendix 1) Useful capital cities to know:

Eritrea - Asmara
Namibia - Windhoek
Moldova - Chisinau
Guyana - Georgetown
Benin - Porto-Novo
Andorra - Andorra la Vella
South Africa - Pretoria (de facto)
Wales - Cardiff

The White Horse and the Wedding!

July 28th

Saturday the twenty-seventh of July, 2013, saw, to put it lightly, some shit go down. Shit got real. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiyit. In years to come I will be able to look back at 27/07/13 as a fairly pivotal day in my life. Not because of the violent crackdown on protestors in Cairo, or for Novellist winning the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth stakes, or the general election in Kuwait, although perhaps in the future these could become the cause of some form of misplaced nostalgia. No. As keen readers of this web blog may have been aware, my friends Mike and Rosie got married.

Now I've briefly described some of the stresses and worries and exciting bits that were a part of the build up to the big day. It isn't the place of this blog to go into detail chronicling precisely what happened though; such an undertaking would require a novel of some form to do an event of this magnitude justice. What I will attempt to do is summarise some of the key points:

• Mike and Rosie got married
• It rained, but only during points when most people were supposed to be inside
• Nobody got hurt
• No animals were harmed
• A tractor could have, but wasn't, the subject of joyriding
• Robbie Williams' 'Candy' was played and a minority* danced

 This blog is far more interested in what happened next, on the soon to be forgotten day, Sunday the twenty-eighth of July, 2013. Even though Francisco José Garzón Amo was charged with 79 counts of manslaughter in Spain, and the US defeated Panama to lift the CONCACAF Gold Cup, it is destined to be overshadowed by the events that preceded it. I hope that this blog post will prove to be a fitting eulogy to that day and the breakfast that saw it in.

The family table

One of the great things about the wedding was that a lot of the guests opted to camp at the farm where the reception was held afterwards. This meant that, the following morning, after we'd all done our best helping to tidy up as much as our hangovers would allow, we trudged wearily into Ditchling to the White Horse, the pub at which Mr. and Mrs. Sykes had stayed, in order to chow down on a well-deserved cooked breakfast. It was a very welcome situation; never at weddings do you get a chance to sit back, relax and contemplate in a calm, sedate atmosphere. At least, not at any of the weddings I've been to. I'm usually too busy running around drinking everything in sight, being charming**, worrying about whether areas of my body are going to be visible from beneath my kilt, and plotting to expose areas of my body from beneath my kilt.

Happy campers

Now despite several shortcomings, the White Horse was a great success. The pub seemed to house the entire fly population of West Sussex, though these insects were largely ensconced within the pub's interior (probably looking for one-armed bandits and Setanta, the backwards lot that they are). We also endured quite a long wait for succour (some tables more than others) though to look at it in a positive light this enabled more time for chat and reflection. Some of our tables wouldn't see it this way however...

The Sykes Union Breakfast

Sausages, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans

S.U.B - £8?

There was a lot to commend about the food however when it did arrive. Chloe was given a whole tray of gluten-free toast; possibly the most generous pro-coeliac provision I have witnessed. The sausages were very stodgy and in the style of a spicy beanburger - a direction I've not yet seen before and one that deserves to be repeated.

Smiles and hangovers

The rest of the dish was solid and satisfying in a routine manner. The egg, very thick, had a light, salted, juicy white, with a thin, fluid and luminous yolk. Exciting. The toms were rich, soft, and peppery. The mushrooms had solid fungal tones though not much else. The beans were room temperature, though vibrant. It was enough to render the wait worthwhile (though some of our tables again wouldn't see it this way...possibly).

Putting on a brave face

It was great to continue the feeling of mass togetherness that the wedding instilled onwards into the following day. From the beginning stages of its preparation it had felt like much more than a joining of two individuals; it was a celebratory event of our entire friendship group. Several family members from both sides of the Sykes and Williams union remarked over the weekend about the remarkable closeness of our group, and there are few better meals to be had that could fittingly end on chapter of our group's life and beginning the next one than a mass cooked breakfast.

This post marks the end of my summer hiatus. Normal breakfast blogging service should hopefully now be resumed in October.


* pretty much just me
** At the time I think I am being charming I am usually offensively intoxicated

Adam's Stag and the Albanach Bar

July 21st.

Uncle David, Father Derek, Brother Ian

Scotland; allegedly the home of the brave and definitely the home of my ancestors. Despite having never lived in Scotland I do feel Scottish, partly due to my family and partly due to an affinity with the more favourable elements of the national stereotype; the underdog spirit, stoicism, passionately windswept, perpetually hard-done by, brave. Of course, I do also have a penchant for some of the less favourable elements too; a love of unhealthy food and a lack of sporting success. These latter two elements would be keenly experienced in a trip north of the border for my cousin Adam's stag do.

Now, in a slightly contrary fashion, Adam had already been married in Las Vegas shortly before the weekend. He didn't want to miss out on a mancentric weekend of jollity however, not after the stag weekend of his brother had been so resoundingly successful, and so a belated bash was organised in his home city of Edinburgh to coincide with the Open. My father, brother, and I would travel up for the weekend to enjoy food, drink, and golf, all in large Scottish quantities.

Cousins Adam and David

As my cousins live in Edinburgh and Ayr respectively I don't get to see them particularly often. Prior to Dave's stag do it had been several years, but we're hoping to carry on an annual meet-up style event (and hopefully one not dependent on a McIntosh getting married...) It's always great catching up with my cousins and uncle, along with their respective wives and this year the newest addition to the clan, wee Blake. He's already looking like one to grow up breaking hearts and records.

Wee Blake

This year's jaunt delivered, just as predicted, the usual Scottish goods; ample portions of great food were provided by the Red Squirrel, Khushi's, and the Albanach bar; strong drink came mainly in the form of ale, lager, whisky, and the obligatory round of OVD & Irn Bru; amusing disappointment came from a disasterous final round from Martin Laird, my own unfortunate dropping of a newly bought bottle of OVD, and a 4am evacuation due to a fire alarm on the Friday night (not ideal after drinking and eating to the edge of nausea).

Now, I had to take the opportunity to slip in a cooked breakfast whilst in Edinburgh, as Scottish breakfasts often feature components not often seen on an English plate. Sadly, the Albanach Bar on Edinburgh's High Street didn't utilise the vegetarian black pudding I'd seen advertised elsewhere, but it did feature the more conventional tattie scone and the more Caledonian vegetarian haggis.

 Vegetarian Breakfast

A mixed grill of prime Quorn sausage, vegetarian haggis, mushrooms, baked beans, grilled tomatoes, fried egg, hash browns, potato scone and grilled buttered toast

Vegetarian Breakfast: £7.99

Seen by many as a paradox, or simply an aberration, the vegetarian haggis is a wonderful thing. Regularly tasty, sales of the vegetarian variety of haggis account for almost 25% of Macsween's annual haggis sales, an impressive figure. As it shares a lot of its ingredients with more readily recognisable foods like stuffing and nutroast, you can be assured that any fearful talk is solely due to people's lack of familiarity with it, rather like a Victorian's paranoia about "exotically dangerous mesmeric savages" from North Africa and the Far East. The haggis is not exotic, dangerous, or savage, and it would certainly be a stretch to describe its taste as mesmeric (at least, that which was served at the Albanach was not mesmeric), but it is definitely hearty and homely, and encapsulates those more positive Scottish stereotypes; passion and bravery. In practice here, it tasted oaty and meaty, rather like a cross between sausage and stuffing.

The Stag Party

The other less familiar item was the potato scone, essentially a potato pancake that had inevitably been fried into beauty and was slick, smooth and salty. The rest of the breakfast unfolded as it often does down south, with a reliable sense of tastiness, marked with the odd hitch here and there.

The sausages, of a vegetable variety, were akin to bubble & squeak, potatoey and herby, but possibly too mushy. The mushrooms were rich but with a subtle smokiness. The hash browns were similar to their potato cousin in sharing a light and thin crispiness with a salty edge, but this gave way to fluffy innards. The beans, initially forgotten by the waiting staff (!) were powerful and warm, yet lacking a fundamental fruitiness. The eggs had firm whites and slow yolks. As is often the case, the tomatoes had a nice, discrete tang.

On the whole this was a classic tourist's British cooked breakfast, with pleasing regional variants added to place it firmly as a Scottish piece, without plunging it into the realms of pastiche. Fortunately, despite Edinburgh's love of tartan tat tourist traps, we saw no eateries offering an entirely deep-fried breakfast. Perhaps in some of the murkier quarters of the city such things exist, but as it was, our weekend kept us entirely in the realms of the respectable. Well, apart from the frenzied panic that saw me wake up screaming at 4am, hurling my bedclothes across the room upon hearing the fire alarm. Oh, and my brother throwing up multiple times before that. And then there was the fridge filled solely with cookies, doughnuts, and Irn Bru. And my father's unfortunately malfunctioning belt. And...

Roll on next year!

Liaising with Lee at Langelees

July 13th.

Work colleagues are an interesting breed. With most acquaintances you make there is some common ground, an automatic connection to a shared interest or belief, which is the reason for you becoming acquaintances in the first place. Work colleagues largely differ in this respect, as for lots of people the primary reason for having a particular job is due to a need to make money. This means that you are thrown into close proximity with a group of people whom you may have no shared interests or beliefs at all. There is a risk that getting a job may place you in the unenviable position of being stuck in a small room for 37.5 hours a week with a bunch of racists, misogynists and X Factor fans. It's enough to put you off getting a job altogether.

Fortunately the vast majority of people I have met through working at the hospital in Lewes have been lovely people. Lee Osborne is one of these people. She is not racist or misogynistic (though I'm not entirely sure of her views on the X Factor), and she is one of the kindest people I have ever had the fortune of meeting. She has the biggest heart in Sussex, without a doubt, and if she can think of anything that she reckons might please or help one of her pals she will do it without question. In fact, just a few weekends ago she carried an office chair back support all the way down from Scarborough to Brighton for our colleague Sharon, having spotted one in a shop up there. What a hero!

She is also quite a talented individual, and likes to spend some her spare time engaging in crafts. She is adept at knitting and making jewellery, and from time to time she will bring some of her creations into work for purchase. Always handy if you've forgotten a crucial birthday/anniversary/religious observance.

It was for a crucial birthday/anniversary/religious observance that Lee first visited and then fell for Langelees; she went there for a Christmas meal and was won over when she asked if she could have some sautéed potatoes and the staff went to get some for her especially. From tales such as this, another one where they opened especially for her son's birthday, and her interactions with the staff whilst we were there, it was clear to see that this was a friendly establishment indeed.

The interior was that of a traditional cafe, but as it was a nice day we opted to sit outside at the back. It was very similar to a pub garden with a full complement of wooden benches, garnished with a some hanging baskets and some bird poo. Delightful and down to earth. Just like our conversation; we wiled away the time chatting blissfully about pet therapy and pregnancy cravings until the breakfast arrived.

And so, the breakfast:

The Brighton

2 Quorn sausages, 2 hash browns, 2 fried eggs, garlic sautéed mushrooms, tomato, Heinz baked beans & fresh cut toast

The Brighton - £5.50

Here I was presented with a very down to earth looking breakfast; everything was arranged clearly and honestly in front of me, and in good amounts. Overall the tastes were straight with me from the off as well. There were no pretensions here, just simple components prepared competently.

There were a couple of items that suffered from dryness; the hash browns were light and swirly, and could have been viewed as faint hearted compared to others, though they were enthusiastically potatoey in spite of this. The beans also had a slight dry aftertaste, which meant that additional condiments were required. Other moisture was provided well by the tomatoes, rich and well-cooked with a perfect fleshy softness, but the other moist allies, the eggs, were quite firm, with cloudy albumen and solid yolks only providing the most modest support.

Lee Osborne - an absolute star

The traditionally dry items performed very well. The sausages were well-cooked also, with a firm skin giving way to sage. The toast (on a separate plate), of which I was given a choice of type, was soft, gentle, and wholesome, triumphantly so, like a family man. Lee suggested that they made their own bread, and this represented the homely nature of the venue well. In addition to this, every hot drink there is served with a small homemade biscuit, which proved to be absolutely delightful.

The real glory on the plate though was with the mushrooms. They were garlicky with gay abandon, keeping all vampires away from Langelees for a five-mile radius. The portion size was top as well, meaning that I, the arch-garlicophile, was in seventh heaven.

The breakfast felt good. Now, I wasn't so keen on the proximity of the bird poo to my meal, but considering how vigilant the staff of Langelees were when it came to making sure we were feeling at home, I reckon this may have been a rare oversight. The meal itself was homely with enough embellishing (by embellishing I mean 'cooking in garlic') to make it stand out a little from other breakfasts and for me to overlook some of deficiencies of other elements; the home-made biscuits, the garlic, the home-made bread, the garlic, the garlic - it all added up. You got a decent amount for your dollar as well, with double helpings of the more singular components. It may not be the most obvious cafe in Brighton, hidden in plain sight just over the road from St. Peter's Church, but it is definitely worth a look if you're in that area. And ifyou like garlic sautéed mushrooms early in the day.

Function: home-made makes homely 4/5
Adherence to canon: Yes and garlic
Taste: dryness in places compensated with superb garlic (mushrooms) 3/5
Value: good ample portions for your coin 4/5
Presentation: simple, effective 4/5
Venue: staff willing to go the extra mile (although beware bird poo) 3/5

Overall: heck, I love garlic - 4/5