Liaising with Lynsey at Silo

22nd March.

breakfast

[brek-fuh st]

It is unsurprising that something so homely, friendly, and familiar as breakfast should be so regularly referred to in a colloquial fashion. It is also unsurprising that these colloquialisms should make their way onto the menus and A-boards of cafes and eateries wishing to persuade hungry folk to fork out their money for a homely meal.

It can be surprising to see how this colloquial version of “breakfast” can sometimes be spelled.

For me, it has always been spelled “brekky.” No other alternative as ever crossed my mind. You need to get shot of the “a” and double up the consonants before the “y” to ensure that the sound of the “e” is short. I don’t know if there’s any technical English language science behind these feelings, but they feel pretty good.

What you don’t do is spell it “breaky.” Just look at words like “freaky,” “creaky,” and “leaky.” You wouldn’t want to associate breakfast with words like that. A haunted house, maybe, but not a breakfast. Weeeelll, ok, maybe carnivores might have something to say about “streaky.”

I don’t want be pedantic though, there is more important ground to be covered. Let’s just draw a line under this particular gripe of mine. I will write no more on the subject.

I couldn’t believe that Lynsey Jean spelled it “breaky.” For someone so talented when it comes to the arts of the kitchen to make such a catastrophic food-based error, well, the mind boggles. Perhaps it is for the best that she is making a dramatic change in her life by leaving behind the cafes and bakeries and heading off to New Zealand.

By the time this is up on the Internet, Lynsey will have arrived in New Zealand, ready to touch some glow worms, see some whales and to follow her dream of becoming a llama ffarmer. It is a big change to make, and like all big changes it is an exciting one that positively thrums with possibility. 

It also offers her an escape from terrible middle-management. To be fair, she had already escaped terrible middle-management by going to work at The Marwood, one of the finest coffee houses in Brighton, at times both relaxing and fiercely idiosyncratic. Its quirkiness is a matter of pride and is defended vigorously. Apparently a customer once asked a staff-member to turn down the music in the cafe, who then responded with, “oh sure, we’ll just get rid of the atmosphere.”

Rude? Perhaps, but not quite as rude or downright bad as the middle-management that Lynsey had experienced prior to joining The Marwood's coterie. The boss in question would sit upstairs, only engage with their staff through email (at times in a very threatening manner), and took away their tips. These are classic strategies for “how to be a horrible boss,” and it is unsurprising that someone would feel compelled to travel halfway around the world to get away from them as a result. 

It is a shame though, as it means that Brighton will have lost another talented soul. As well as being handy at crafts and musical instrumentation, Lynsey is a grand master of baking. Her cake creations have wowed the tongues and stomachs of many in Brighton over the past few years, and now the southern hemisphere will have exclusive access to these skills.

But before Lynsey headed off to the southern hemisphere, there was one thing she needed to do. A trip to Buddies was lacking from her resumé. I sincerely hope she managed to take a trip there before leaving Brighton. We had a nice breakfast at Silo, but Buddies is a monolithic institution. Living in Brighton and not going to Buddies is a bit like living in New Zealand and not stroking a sheep.

And so, the brekky…

Silo Breakfast

Sourdough toast with silo beans + slow-cooked eggs (w/ Espresso mushrooms)

Silo Breakfast - £6
(add Espresso Mushrooms - extra £2)

Silo's aim is to run with zero waste, achieving this through direct trade with farmers and by only using local ingredients that do not generate any waste themselves.

This mindset was not limited to the food. From the glass jars used for drinking to the furniture fashioned from plywood, everything felt salvaged.  One neat innovation was the projection of the menus onto the walls, meaning that the regular production of new menus is not required.

In addition to the homely aspect that this salvaging provided, Silo felt full of friendliness. Cheerful bonhomie exuded from the staff - prompt to clean up any spillages and on hand to describe each and every component of our meals - all the way to the toilets, where users are encouraged to leave messages on the walls in chalk.

A typical llama ffarmer. Lynsey's calling.

The sourdough toast (baked over 48 hours) was the perfect mix of soft and crispy, offering a crunch to the dish but not one that was so hard that it alienated the other ingredients. Our ever-fastidious waiter even pointed out what type of flour was used in the baking. I felt intimately acquainted with the sourdough by this point.

I was reminded of those wee rubber aliens that used to be all the rage over a decade ago when it came to the bulbous egg. You know, the ones that would always end up stuck to the classroom ceiling. The egg quivered just like one of those, yet was a thousand times more rewarding when its surface was pierced. It was poached and wasn’t shy about gushing thickly all over my plate.

The beans (homemade, of course) tied the egg and the toast together. Their tang was familiar, but the texture was reminiscent of a thick vegetable soup, sharing a size and mouthfeel with lentils. These were interesting beans and were the more rich and fulfilling for it.

The mushrooms were some of the greatest I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. Homegrown (what else?) shiitake shrooms that were so meaty and chewy, at times I was uncertain what I was eating. These were streets ahead of the usual. Added to this texture was a delightful saltiness, strong but not overpowering, that was reminiscent of the subtle hand that soy sauce brings to stir fries.

I also have it on good authority from Lynsey that Silo serves up the best black pudding she’s ever tasted.

Here was a truly mighty breakfast, served up in an environment that is not only friendly to the customer but friendly to the local environment as well. I was so impressed that I dragged my pals here on my birthday for brunch. Although it lacks potato, the finesse with which the other components were served makes up for this shortcoming. It is truly wholesome fare, a breakfast that is not only hearty but has a heart as well.

Disclaimer: Now, I was expecting to have some tomato with the breakfast. Unfortunately, I was informed by the oracle/waiter that they did not have any tomatoes in at that point in time. One of the perils of operating with zero waste, I suppose, is not having infinite access to all ingredients. To remedy this problem and to bring the breakfast up to the standards demanded by the canon, I opted to have some extra “espresso mushrooms” with mine to make up for the missing fleshy component.

I have since discovered that tomatoes are not a part of the general menu, and shall reflect this deficit in my rating.

Function: a warming experience overall - 4/5

Adherence to canon: No

Price: limited variety but high quality - 3/5
Taste: ruddy beautiful - 5/5

Venue: great vibes and intentions - 5/5

Overall: a triumph, hampered only by non-adherence to the canon - 4/5