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