Hungry hiatus

April 14th.

It's happened again. I have run out of money. It seems to be a regular occurrence that I spend about a week each month scraping by, giving up all non-essential purchases such as beer, eating out, and deodorant, in order to make it through to pay day, but this month it's hit earlier than usual. Blame birthdays, blame bills, blame British Sea Power. As a result, I am going to have to forgo fastbreaking activities for the next couple of weeks (unless anyone fancies treating me?).

I shall be spending my weekends indoors, playing video games, arranging a stag do, and hopefully putting my writing energies elsewhere. On the off chance you've come across this independently of of my other blog, you can have a perusal of some general musings and creative meanderings at http://whiteplumsupermarket.blogspot.co.uk/. The last couple of entries are a link to the English Disco Lovers and a poem I made up in my head on the way to football one evening. On this evidence I definitely need to spend a bit more time with this one.

I will also try and avoid mixing up breakfast reviews and heavy nights out. The results are always hazy and do not result in acceptable contributions to the blogosphere. They do result in amusing photography sometimes, but that's not what I'm going for with this. Until the next one then, eat well.

Collaborating with Claire at Infinity Food Cafe

March 28th.

In a few months time I am going to be the best man to one of my greatest friends, Mike Sykes. It's going to be a massive honour, but with the honour comes various trials that must be overcome before destiny can be fulfilled. Most notable of these trials is the organisation of the stag do, which must be fun-filled and exciting or else the marriage will be doomed to failure and Mike will personally behead me with a breeze block on live television. Daunting, and not a challenge that can be completed by simply hiring some saucy dancers and filling Mike up with Frosty Jacks.

I'm sure I'll be able to rustle something up by the end of May, but for now I am in 'slightly worried' mode. Someone else in 'slightly worried' mode is Claire Sissons, maid-of-honour and organiser of the hen do. Normally operating in 'calm and gentle' mode, Claire has a much harder job than me as maid-of-honour, as she's also had to take an active role in another notable trial; the hunting of the wedding dress. From what I've heard, the pursuit of this fabled beast is incredibly difficult and hunters are often led in a merry dance through impenetrable forest, over roaring brook and into labyrinthine marshes. The quarry is always elusive, but in this instance the hunters have recently found success! Glory be! She has also been very busy recently with helping to stage manage a successful International Women's Day event in Brighton; "a day celebrating women's achievements in the struggle for equality," featuring workshops, speakers in the mould of Caroline Lucas, live performance and complimentary therapies. All reports were immensely favourable. Everything that Caroline Lucas appears at is usually a resounding success (apart from the House of Commons) so I have every faith that Claire managed to manage an ace afternoon. I also have every faith she will be able to orchestrate a marvellous hen weekend, being a person of both good sense and good taste, who is receptive and empathetic to the needs of others. The latter qualities aren't essential for hen do organisation, but who knows, they might come in useful at some point along the way.

As we both had the day off it seemed like a good idea to meet up to run various henstag ideas past each other over tasty vegetarian breakfasts. Claire has been both a strong supporter of the breakfast project and a strong supporter in general during my occasional angsty phases. We had planned to go to a cafe near the Lanes that we'd spied on an old blog that, at the time, had served breakfasts within giant Yorkshire puddings. Much to our dismay we discovered that not only were the Yorkshires no longer on the menu, but the establishment was very much closed. Slightly disappointed, we opted instead for the environs of the Infinity Food Cafe. A name suggestive of an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet...

As we awaited our breakfasts, conversation steered towards home. Claire was going to visit her parents and dog that weekend. Although living in Poole does not sound quite as exciting as living with a Belgian baron as she once did when ickle (something that is surely on most people's bucket list), she did have a wonderful treehouse back in the day, and the Dolphin Arcade in Poole used to have some equally wonderful animal climbing apparatus.

This led to a long discussion on lawn furniture in the shape of tortoises. Large wooden tortoises are the ideal lawn ornament. Aesthetically pleasing, they could also be hollowed out with shells that open, and they could be used to contain, amongst other things, the following; barbeques, refridgerators, lawn games such as boules, blankets, tools, hibernating tortoises, hibernating children, barbeque coals, wine and spirits, walking boots, smaller wooden tortoises, hot tubs, hats, and toys for dogs. Perhaps we could commission one to be made for Mike and Rosie's wedding? A large wooden tortoise could also be used as an outdoor table at which one could eat a cooked breakfast if one was that way inclined.

And so, the breakfast:

Full Veggie Breakfast

Sausage, bacon, egg, mushrooms, spinach, tomato, baked beans and toast

Full Veggie Breakfast - £8.50

We can probably dispute the accuracy of the menu here. "Mushrooms" transpired to be one large open cap, "tomato" was a tiny wee thing that could fit in a shot glass with room to spare, and "wedges" didn't even appear on there at all. I was happy with the mushroom and the surprise wedges, but really that tomato was a bit silly. It was more of a garnish or condiment than any real contribution to the dish as a whole.

Still, it tasted fine. As did the wedges and the mushroom. They all had a solid taste; unsurprising and refusing to deviate from the normative flavours that you would associate with these three things. Sure, the mushroom and mini-tom were juicy too, but all three could have done with something else to take them on. With this large amount of unsurprising inevitably came a large amount of uninspiring.

The lesser-spotted Sissons in her natural habitat

The spinach and the beans had some different flavours coming through. The spinach had a subtle, possibly garlic, edge. It was subtle enough for me to be unable to confidently discern what it was that it had been cooked in, but this was a bit more like it. The beans had some perfumey notes going, similar to the violet flavouring in Parma Violets. Kooky. Not particularly homely, but it was nice that they were attempting something a bit different with them. Perhaps they had added in some stearic acid. I'm not sure. I'm no expert. Ultimately though, I wasn't enamoured with them.

Up to this point, all the components I have described also had relatively normal textures. Not too soft, not too firm, precisely what you would expect from well cooked tomato, beans, wedges, spinach and baked beans. The toast and egg though were both rather chewy. This wasn't a problem with the egg, and in fact this made it the most interesting item on the plate. The white had a smooth firmness that kept the runny yolk in place and made it feel like some kind of fried-poached hybrid. The chewiness worked less well with the toast, which, due to its fibrous nature, was a much more difficult beast to break down, almost to the point of it being a chore.

This leaves me with the sausage and bacon. At some point during our time there Claire and I had pondered why halloumi never gets used in cooked vegetarian breakfasts (to our knowledge), and these two components served to further fuel the desire for that divine cheese of the grill. The bacon had that all too familiar level of dry blandness that I have come to expect of vegetarian bacon. The sausage was more curious; a weird tubal creation that felt like a spring roll filled with stuffing. It was strange and disconcerting. It felt like it required dissecting and sending to a pathology lab rather than wolfing down.

Although the table at which we sat at upstairs was pleasant and held a pleasant view over the street below, the ground floor with menu board and serving counter were dingy and dull. The contrast between this front and the warm and welcoming atmosphere of the Infinity Foods shop should have prepared me for what was to follow. I was expecting something that shared the excitement and freshness of the shop, and what I ate disappointed me. It felt as though effort had been greatly lacking in the meal's creation. In that respect it was just as well the food was not infinite, though for the price of asking it probably should have been something close to it.

It dawned on me shortly after getting home that we had not discussed the henstag planning at all. Oops. Six weeks to go...

Function: alienating 2/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: predominantly mundane 2/5
Value: very difficult to justify the price 2/5
Presentation: are they trying to hide the bacon? plate and food layout incongruous 2/5
Venue: nice upstairs, downstairs less so 2/5

Overall: must try harder - 2/5 

Rendezvous with Ryan (who was subsequently surprised by Steve) at Rock Ola

March 23rd.

* disclaimer - the events I am about to document were followed by some severe binge drinking. If this type of activity is to be conducted at all, it is best conducted prior to the cooked breakfast rather than following it. Such decadent and foolhardy behaviour does not lend itself well to remembering with fondness the food of the past, although the chances of becoming reacquainted with it in the future are much greater *

On Saturday 23rd March, Ryan Howson left the world of teenagers and became a fully-fledged twentysomething. His longstanding ladyfriend, Bryony, needed to get him out of the house in order to set up a surprise party for him. What better way to do that than to get him into a cafe for a cooked breakfast? And so it was; I took one for the team and invited Ryan to join me for some food, hoping to preoccupy him for long enough so that Bry could inflate a multitude of balloons and lay out a delicious buffet of sweet, sweet nibbles.

Me and Ryan have previous when it comes to breakfasts. For his last birthday we were the only two that made it to Buddies post-party (Buddies being one of the most notorious late-night eateries, and one which will inevitably rear its ugly/noble head on here in the near future). It now feels like a comforting tradition; a ritual that will need to be carried out until the end of our days.

Ryan is a very dependable guy. In dark moments he has been there to pick up the slack of others. I distinctly remember one evening, when I was feeling low after someone had called off a meet-up at the last minute due to ill-health, Ryan answered a call to the pub very late in the day. We had a good night, and he was able to offer the companionship that I was sorely lacking. That's the kind of guy Sweet Hands is; dependable and willing to give his all. From this point onwards I shall be addressing him by his nickname, Sweet Hands. It takes a special kind of person to develop a flamboyant nickname and have it stick. Sweet Hands is a subtle beast, rather like the three-toed sloth or sausage dog (Sweet Hands' favourite breed of dog). This is a turning into a bit of a digression so I'll leave it at that.

For his birthday another surprise was brewing. We were going to be met at the cafe of choice by Steve Kelly, one of my oldest and most long-suffering comrades. He was going to be wearing his King Arthur costume. A potentially terrifying scenario for the unprepared, but one that should have proved to be joyous for Sweet Hands. And joyous it did prove. I think. His precise words were, "Is Steve supposed to be here?" That reads as quite joyous. Doesn't it?

Obviously conversation focused mainly on the fact that it was Sweet Hands' birthday. It's not everyday that you leave the teenage years behind. All three of us are fans of computer games though, so this occupied a good 40% of the chat. Two engrossing games have been released relatively recently; Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch and SimCity (the former leading me to write a wee bit about video games in general elsewhere), and we had a nice little discussion about their merits and foibles. Unfortunately I cannot remember too much about the details of this, due to what was to come.

We also briefly chatted about animal masks (10% of the chat), and I duly presented Ryan with his present; a tiger mask complete with whiskers and fluffy eyebrows. I hope to see him wear this a good deal throughout his twenties. The mask, once on the table, attracted a few worried glances from customers and waitresses alike, and if you are looking to attract positive attention from a waitress I would definitely recommend a small dog over an animal mask.

And so, the breakfast:

Veggie American Style

 2 eggs, 2 veggie bacon, 2 veggie pattie burgers, hash brown, grilled tomato, 3 buttermilk pancakes & syrup

Veggie American Style - £5.95

Rock Ola is an American-style diner with a rock 'n' roll theme (note the jukebox in the picture below!), and so understandably the breakfast itself has a few items involved that wouldn't be seen within a fifty mile radius of certain greasy spoons. I had previously experienced an American-style cooked breakfast whilst the project was at a nascent stage, so I was excited to tackle another one now that I had a wealth of veggie breakfast under my (gradually loosening) belt.

You can see that there's a bowl of beans in the corner of the shot here. I shelled out an extra 75p for the privilege as I thought that the meal would be too dry for my taste without. I had, however, not reckoned on the moist prowess of the eggs, tomato, and what turned out to be the breakfast's secret weapon, the syrup. As such, I shall be writing this review as though the beans were never there, and indeed I ended up eating the majority of them separately from the rest of the meal. In hindsight I shall be avoiding the purchase of extras. It's just not fair to do so!

Anyway, moisture was forthcoming from the tomatoes and two eggs. The toms were both sweet and juicy, grilled so that they maintained good body whilst intensifying flavour. The eggs' yolks were slightly watery, which was useful in this context but gave them an inhibited taste. The whites were more solid though and contained the yolk pleasingly, as well as proving to be filling. These components were decent enough.

The other, more common, components were the hash brown and the veggie bacon. The hash brown was spot on in the classic style; served with the crunchy and crisp outer shell, coating a warm and homely potatoey inside. Delightfully armadillo-esque. The bacon was sadly not armadillo-esque, though a step up from previous veggie bacon. It was drier than the last strip I'd tasted, though still lacking in real strong flavours. It did link up well though with the syrup...

Breakfast came with a candle for the birthday boy (right)

And so, the more American components. The syrup, pancakes and pattie burgers. The bacon went very well with the syrup, which almost managed to cover up the flavourless strips' shortcomings. The syrup also went well with the pattie burgers, which were also lacking in strong flavours. They reminded me of finger food that you get at buffets; dry, cute and slightly akin to crisps in taste. They would have fitted better on the table along with all the other tidbits Bryony had asssembled for Sweet Hands' surprise party. The syrup also, more obviously, went well with the pancakes. I was hoping these would be a bit bigger and less like Scotch pancakes. They were soft and could have been warmer. I would have liked to have had more of an opportunity to taste them alongside some stronger, more savoury moistness, but as the tomatoes and egg yolk were required for the fried dry components I had to favour using the syrup.

Following my last American cooked breakfast experience I was sceptical as to whether a meal following a formula from the other side of the Atlantic would be able to make a positive impression on me. I had been given glowing reports from other friends though, so I was open to having my opinion severely challenged. This one did better than the last one without beans, but was let down by a couple of components lacking in great flavours and/or not being served up to their full potential. I was left feeling that the whole thing was merely adequate, as though it was something quirky to be consumed as a stop-gap until a better meal came along. Overall then, it probably was more of an animal mask of a breakfast rather than a small dog; it was more of a curious diversion, a one-off, rather than a dedicated and loving lifestyle choice. The search for the Great American Breakfast continues.

Function: felt like a novelty meal 2/5
Adherence to canon: beans were absent friends - No
Taste: generally lacking in some areas 2/5
Value: nice variety for your money though not top of the range 3/5
Presentation: colourful plate, squeezy condiment bottles 3/5
Venue: pleasant and chirpy 3/5

Overall: lacking in the excitement and punchiness that rock 'n' roll exemplifies - 2/5

* Apologies for the vagueness and poor writing of this entry. I think they are symptomatic of the events surrounding the breakfast. I could have written more detailed notes at the time, or perhaps finished my write-up sooner than I have. This approach would have led to a better finished post, but I fear would not have done justice to the annual event that is a Sweet Hands birthday. *

Ruminating with Robin at Iydea

March 16th.


"If it's beautifully arranged on a plate, you know someone's fingers have been all over it." - Julia Child

A nice wee aphorism, that, and one that sits well with my almost philistine position on culinary presentation. I generally abhor food that is deemed classy or aesthetically refined, as this normally means that the portions will be insignificant and unsubstantial. I mean, a meal needs to fill you up as well as tasting good, right? That is the wonderful thing about aphorisms, and creative writing in general; you can easily encapsulate a theory or a person with just 16 words. This is why Robin Spottiswoode's most recent product, the choose-your-own quote print, is an ace idea. There's nothing like having a belief or thought summed up succinctly and intelligently, and his new product allows you to select your own bons mots and have them printed off for your own personal use in the home and work place. Imagine the possibilities! Imagine them, then place an order! Go here: http://electricfairground.com/

I met Robin at Exeter Uni at some undetermined point early on in our first year, probably due to a mutual enjoyment of our halls of residence's bar, the Welly. Since moving to Brighton we have played music and football together, and Robin has exhibited great prowess in using his hands throughout, be it with accordion or goalkeeper gloves. He also puts his hands to good use in the creation and purveyance of various gadgets and handy items. Personalised doormats, Scrabble-themed table reservations, football-themed Rubik's cubes; these are some of the things that he has been working on of late. Some of these things (and more!) can be viewed at another website of his here. Sadly his vajazzle kits are not on there.

Robin shares several things in common with me, as well as the music and football, and so conversation meandered around these areas; the difficulties of pacing yourself when needing to drink alcohol over the course of a day, the dangers of using social network websites after one of these said days, lucid dreaming, discovering new music (apparently there was an Irish-folk revival in Germany in the 90s) and special clubs and societies that we were involved with at school, all of these were examined. Robin was a member of Ghost Club and Clocko, much more exciting than Porn Club which I briefly attended whilst in Year 6, which consisted of a group of us sitting in a tree and looking at pictures from page 3 of The Sun that one of our members had liberated from his parents' recycling.

We also briefly chatted about Robin's cooking video project. For a little while Robin has been filming his friends cook, asking them to take him through the process for one particular dish of their choosing. In the near future there will be a video up of me attempting to cook that traditional Scottish dish, risotto. It's a fun project, and one that I feel has a similar motive to my breakfast one. The creation of these videos, viewable on Robin's youtube account, emphasise the social interaction of the instruction as much as the instruction itself, thereby holding them as equally important. Hopefully my breakfast reviews are doing a similar thing.

And so, the breakfast:

Small Breakfast

Lincolnshire style sausage, balsamic tomato, hash brown, mushroom and avocado stir fry, smokey beans and scrambled eggs

Small Breakfast - £4.50

As my opening reference and following paragraph explained, I am not a fan of flashy food. My initial concern when viewing the menu was that this was what Iydea would provide. Another concern I had was with what size meal to go for, being offered a small breakfast and a large, with no middle ground. I was conscious that my favourite breakfast so far had been one where I'd inadvertently ordered the XL version, and was wanting to try and keep a parity in dish sizes across the board where possible. Therefore I opted for the small, though was slightly apprehensive when the plate arrived, a very un-Partridge-sized one, fearing that it would not be enough to sate my hunger. There was also a curfew on breakfasts, with service ceasing at 11:15am. Fortunately the staff were kind and allowed us to place our order, despite it being closer to half past.

I shouldn't have been overly worried. I should have been able to tell that a place that has walls adorned with bunting and fairy lights, and offers artists and photographers space to display their work, would be a place wanting to provide a homely and hearty meal rather than swanky nibbles. A screen flashing various messages also gave me the quote with which I have opened this account, and this should have automatically put me at ease. As it was, I didn't feel entirely comfortable until I had tucked into the breakfast, which happened to be only a few minutes after placing the order!

Founding member of Ghost Club

I began with the baked beans. These were a take on baked beans that I had not previously experienced, moving away from a traditional focus on the tomato sauce and instead concentrating on their pulsey nature. These resultant beans reminded me of a hearty stew that my Mum often makes, being equal parts smoky, salty and wholesome. These were very hearty. These were so homely that they reminded me of my Mum. Wow. I then moved onto the scrambled egg. If I'd gone for the larger version of the breakfast I would have had the option of poached eggs. Nervous. Again, apprehensive, following my previous experiences with scrambled eggs. These eggs though were warm and reassuringly eggy. The moisture level was spot on, not being too moist or too dry, and there were no other flavours encroaching in what was assuredly an ovulary matter.

Whilst I am in a celebratory rhythm, I am going to get the sausage out of the way. It was stodgy, wholemeal and dry. It didn't need to be there. It had less personality than Lincolnshire has. There is a parliamentary constituency there (as of March 2013) called 'Great Grimsby', which makes me think of a shit version of F. Scott Fitzgerald's great work. This sausage evoked the spirit of the Great Grimsby, Scunthorpe and Louth. Let us not mention the sausage again.

The mushrooms and the hash brown come under the same category of 'riiiiiiich'. The avocado stir fry technique was a resounding success, creating a serving of large funghi that were succulent and passionate in flavour. The hash brown was softer, not featuring any of the crisp or crunch that is normally a HB mainstay, and opted instead for something slightly more flesh-like than your standard carbohydrate option, yet simultaneously the best of both worlds. The potato flavour was rich and certainly not too stodgy or starchy. The 'riiiiiiiich' triumverate was completed by the balsamic tomato, with the utilisation of balsamic vinegar masterfully bringing out the tongue-heavy tang that all good tomatoes have within.

Such were the bold strokes of taste across my palette that the small dish was an ample amount. I was taken aback, being someone of occasionally monstrous appetite. If I was feeling particularly famished then I could have gone for an upgrade at £7, and it would be interesting to see if this was too much for me to handle. Probably not, but I imagine I would feel uncomfortable afterwards. The breakfast at Iydea has certainly caused me to rethink my prejudices against upmarket, stylish eateries. Without a doubt it has been the tastiest breakfast I have experienced thus far, and I felt well served for my money (although additional things like freshly squeezed orange juice were priced similarly to beer). It is a specifically vegetarian cafe, and a breakfast as hearty and wholesome as this would go a decent way to taking down carnivorous naysayers with its armada of flavours. I would recommend it to anyone wanting to change someone's preconceived iydeas re: vegetarian breakfasts.

"Cultivation of the mind is as necessary as food to the body." - Cicero

Function: reminded me of my mum, cockles warmed 5/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: riiiiiiiiiiich 5/5
Value: under a fiver for a taste explosion. Other things pricey  4/5
Presentation: all squashed in, needed bigger plate 2/5
Venue: warm, friendly buzz, swift service but with curfew(!) on breakfasts 3/5

Overall: the food was spot on, the accessories could be improved - 4/5

On tour with Olli at Seven Bees Cafe

9th March.

Ok, so we weren't on tour per se, but we were playing a gig that day. The band I am currently in, The Red Diamond Dragon Club, had a gig at Sticky Mike's Frog Bar which meant that Oliver Daffarn was in town. We'd had a couple of practices earlier on in the week and had managed to squeeze in some recording at home the day before, during which time Olli had been holed up in our living room in front of his computer, mixing and a-tinkering pretty much constantly. He needed a break. Fast.

I first met Olli back at college where he was a recording mentor to my band at the time, Philanthropy, and once I moved to Exeter to attend university he stepped in to become a fully-fledged member. We had some good times in that band, the highlight probably being a support slot at a show at the Kentish Town Forum, although playing on the bill at the Great Dorset Steam Fair comes pretty close. He is certainly the most talented musician I know, with guitar skills second to none. Despite this, he spends an awful amount of time playing synths and magic electronic boxes that make booms and bangs and all sorts of percussive noises. He likes to defy expectations like that.

Now though, we were in a new band (as were Graham and Tim, two other Philanthropists), playing our first gig in months. As Olli is going away travelling for an indefinite period of time in the summer we have to make the most of his presence while we can. It's a shame in some respects as right now we seem to be building up a wee bit of musical momentum, with several gigs lined up over the next couple of months and positive feedback flooding in from all sides. Olli will have a great time travelling though. Although he has been working a job he has always wanted to do, being able to work with some impressive musicians and downright ace people, he has been working those long, long hours for a while now. It's time for the bird to have some freedom. He needs to fly. In and around the Himalayas. He's going to have a great time.

That's way off in the future though. For the moment, the most important thing was the gig, and for the gig to be a success we needed to be well fed. We had been promised some free beer, and the great enemy of free beer is the empty stomach. I mentioned this project to Olli and he was excited about becoming a part of it, and so we struck out from the house with hope in our hearts and fire in our bellies. His first suggestion was that we go somewhere near the seafront, and this called to mind a suggestion I had had from my housemate Stu about a cafe relatively close to the front called Seven Bees. This felt apt. Our previous flat in Brighton had been a 7B, and many RDDC activities had taken place there in the past. It seemed like the right choice, so we headed over to Seven Bees using our trusty magic phones to guide us. In the end it turned out that the cafe wasn't on the seafront at all, but in fact just a few metres away from Sticky Mike's Frog Bar. It was destiny. We had come full circle.

I was struck, on entry, on how homely the cafe felt. It could have been a dining room in someone's house. The place had a wonderful community feel; there were ceramics on the wall made by a local artist, there were newspaper articles on the wall for community and charity projects. The condiments were in squeezy bottles and sunflower tablecloths adorned each table. A radio was playing The Smiths and The Human League. The room felt like the interior of a ship. We felt very comfortable, and as soon as we had sat down the table was cleaned swiftly and our orders were taken.  Yep, it was as though we were guests in someone's home, and that home happened to be a particularly lovely houseboat.

And so, the breakfast:

Veggie Breakfast

Egg, beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast and a delicious fried potato latke

(with filter coffee or tea added for £1)

Veggie Breakfast - £5.95

I was excited about the latke. I imagined it would be similar to a hash brown, but I was not expecting it to be quite what it was. Olli described it as "a potato bhaji", which I think describes it quite aptly. It made an interesting change to the usual way potato is delivered onto the breakfast plate, and in the absence of sausage it provided a wholly different textural experience to the other pieces on the plate.

Flavour-wise, it didn't offer anything outside of the normal potato realm. This was a theme that spread through most of the meal. The mushrooms, toast and beans all tasted thoroughly representative of the wider families of mushrooms, toast and beans. They tasted pure, untainted by augmentary flavours. This was particularly striking in the case of the mushrooms, who normally absorb so readily the tastes and notes of their surroundings.

Olli teaches Birdy how to play guitar

'Pure' might be a good word to describe the Seven Bees breakfast. All of the menus had a little biography explaining the history of the cafe, along with their mission statement of only using fresh, locally sourced produce (fitting in further with the community feel). I think this showed, as the whole meal felt wholesome in a way that I had not experienced in a long time. This is not the usual feeling you encounter when entering a cafe and ordering a cooked breakfast. The wholesome nature of the meal was possibly exemplified by the baked beans that were firmer than others, hearty and strangely filling. Again, the taste was not anything special, but the overall feeling created was.

There was, however, one item that did have that little je ne sais quoi that the other components were missing. The tomato, so often a steady and uninteresting journeyman on the breakfast plate, here it was elevated to the rank of hero, heralded as a fastbreaking saviour. It tasted brilliant, bright and fruity. Truly celestial. Truly mouthfeel. This was an area of breakfast that really benefited from the fresh produce policy. It certainly made up for the fried egg, whose white I felt was rather overdone to the point of being crispy (although the yolk was strong and flowed thickly). It provided the spark that was absent from the other items, and prevented the dish from feeling like a healthy also-ran.

Seven Bees Cafe was awarded the title of Brighton's Best Fry-Up by Source Magazine in 2010. It certainly has a lot going for it; in terms of a breakfasting venue I cannot fault it. Both environment and staff were absolutely first-class. They were open to swapping items around on the menu, providing a hospitable element of flexibility to the eating experience. Generosity also came in the form of a massive mug for my coffee. In terms of taste and presentation, the meal certainly wasn't as great as others I've had so far, but the overall experience was more positive than most on account of the delightfulness of the venue. It was also refreshing to feel revitalised and recharged rather than just full up upon finishing the meal, showing that the 'spoonful of grease' approach is not the only way to provide a breakfast that is homely and hearty. So, whilst I probably wouldn't want to award Seven Bees with 'Brighton's Best Fry-Up', I'd certainly consider awarding it 'Brighton's Warmest Fry-Up', in every sense of the word.

Function: surprisingly rejuvenating, very homely 4/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: did the job, only the tomato truly shining 3/5
Value: apt pricing and supporting local business  3/5
Presentation: lushrooms (lush-looking mushrooms) but sloppy elsewhere 3/5
Venue: felt like going to a friend's house. Should be six out of five 5/5

Overall: gets a nobility +0.5 bonus - 4/5

If you want to read a wee blog about how they got Seven Bees Cafe started, check out this old blog here.

Meal-time with Mike at Fiveways Deli

March 2nd.

Two weekends ago, one of my oldest pals, Mike "Walshy" Walsh, came to stay. Whilst in Brighton he would be paying a visit to some old colleagues, playing some football for Kemp Town FC (incidentally the football team that he started), and collecting a guitar amp. The primary reason for his visit to the coast though was the Sussex Beer Festival. As he would be staying at my house for the duration of his visit he seemed like the perfect person to accompany me for a breakfast that weekend.

We had visited the Sussex Beer Festival the previous year and had a jolly good time. It had had a warm and bubbly atmosphere, no doubt a result of all the delicious warm and bubbly beverages that were available for drinking. As expected there was an excess of large, middle-aged men who thought that comedy hats were de rigueur, but there were also a large number of ordinary people so things never felt too awkward. I even spied the lead guitarist of British Sea Power sitting in a corner with some cronies, supping on summat dark. All in all it was a great experience and one that we both wanted to repeat in 2013.

Before this, however, was football training, and before this was a cooked breakfast. We needed to lay a solid foundation for an afternoon spent imbibing a heady mixture of light and darkness from all across the British Isles. For this purpose, we had opted to pay a visit to the Fiveways Deli, a place recommended by a friend who had been there a couple of times previously (along with a mysterious bakery, a few yards up the road, about which I had heard several top reviews). We were both excited about travelling to a relatively unexplored part of the city (for us, anyway), having had the majority of our breakfast experiences in the Kemp Town area.

It was early that Saturday morning when we arrived at the Deli; a small venue with wooden flooring and furnishings that initially yelled out words like artisan and rustic. It felt homely. This homeliness was underlined when we had our orders taken in person and newspapers offered to us within minutes of entering. Heart FM soundtracked these exchanges. There was also a covert quirkiness to the Deli though, in that the seating seemed to be sourced from various disparate places. A church pew sat modestly next to the service counter, whereas the table we chose to use in the near corner was serviced by some seating that must have formerly belonged to a cinema. These touches were subtle, but were effective in making the venue feel different to every other rustic, artisan delicatessen.

Walshy and I discussed three main topics whilst awaiting our food. Unfortunately, due to the heavy quantities of light and darkness that I encountered throughout the day, the finer points of these conversations elude me. We certainly talked about film. Walshy is a keen follower of film. No doubt he recommended some upcoming feature length for future watching. No doubt we shared scepticism about the Muppets sequel that would be have Ricky Gervais as a cast member. We also talked about the fortunes of Aldershot Town FC, Walshy's favourite team. They had recently appointed a new manager, Andy Scott, whom he was feeling very positive about. At the time of writing, the Shots had been enjoying a six game unbeaten run before falling to a tight 2-1 reversal at the hands of high-flying Burton Albion. It looks as though he could be the one to turn their season around, after a period of fairly dull, uninspiring football under the previous manager.

The other thing I can remember talking about is Walshy's change in academic focus. For the last few years he has been focusing his considerable energies in applying for physio courses, unfortunately meeting little success despite a wealth of experience in related work (particularly as a personal trainer at the Samson Centre, a great supportive centre for people with multiple sclerosis). He has now decided that he will instead be applying to train as a paediatric nurse; an equally exciting project and one that I have no doubt he would be excellent at undertaking. He is a man who is both caring and hungry for success, and it is this hunger that drives him from project to project. Hopefully his hunger for success will rub off on this project.

And so, the breakfast:

Full Veggie

...

Full Veggie - £5.25

 Interestingly, the menu at the Fiveways Deli didn't specify precisely what the veggie breakfast comprised of. When placing the order we were informed that they currently didn't have any veggie sausages, so presumably these would normally be a feature of the dish. Still, these are far from essential for a cooked breakfast and so I took my seat with excited anticipation.

When the plate arrived I was served with the sight of 2 fried eggs, tomato, beans, mushrooms, roast vegetables and two slices of toast. Exciting! Roast vegetables! Toast that may have begun its life at the mysterious bakery up the road!

I immediately had to sample the roast vegetables, having never experienced them in a breakfast context before. For those unable to discern the different variables, the vegetable selection consisted of red onion, courgette and a variety of coloured peppers. And probably mushrooms as well. See, these had the compact juiciness of roast veg, along with a hint of smokiness. These were truly superb; succulent and flavoursome. Definitely mouthfeel (see last week's post). The taste they offered was up their with the best you can expect from roast vegetables.

Mike Walsh - hungry for further adventure

They stood out against the other veg options; the tomato was well-cooked and had a good texture but could have been sharper. Similarly the beans were pleasantly fruity but only had a slight tang. Both these components could have done with a bit more edge to their flavours to bring them up to the standard of the roast vegetable selection. They were undoubtedly pleasant nonetheless.

It was the non-vegetable items that let the dish down slightly. The whites of the fried eggs had a firm consistency, but suffered from the overly watery yolks. I like my yolks to have a certain thickness to them, as though you are supping upon sunlight, and these were just not robust enough. It seemed as though the exciting bread was trying to compensate for this. Despite being deliciously seedy and thick, I found that the toast had been overdone to the point of being overly crunchy. When the bread is as thick as this was you need the bread to have a certain amount of give in order to make the eating process quick and simple. If you wanted to nitpick then you could also criticise the positioning of the eggs on the toast as presumptive. I want to nitpick. This is normally where I would position my fried eggs once fastbreaking has commenced, but what if I fancied a change? What then!?

It was interesting and reassuring for a vegetarian that the vegetables were the best part of the dish. Sometimes it feels as though vegetarian options are merely there in order to tick boxes, but it felt as though some thought and care had gone into this, or at least a knowledge of how to prepare vegetables that one would expect from a delicatessen. This was welcoming indeed. It was a shame that the other elements were not of the same high quality as these, and indeed of the wonderful warmth of atmosphere that the deli had (is this something that all delis share?). I would be interested in returning here for lunch sometime, as I imagine they must provide excellent sandwiches. That is a mission for another day, and perhaps that day will be soon; I neglected to take a photo of the Fiveways Deli's exterior and so another jaunt up there is required. I hope to also pay a visit to the mysterious bakery (more commonly known as Ravens Bakery) which, on our departure from the Deli, had an impressive queue streaming out of its doorway and onto the pavement. All of this hearsay and conjecture is giving out mystical cultic overtones. Has sorcery finally returned to these shores?


Function: very homely, could be more hearty 3/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: scintillating vegetables, room for improvement elsewhere 3/5
Value: relatively cheap for decent quality  4/5
Presentation: eggs look like eyes, but presumptive eyes 3/5
Venue: had that 'deli magic' going on 5/5

Overall: showed promise, just needs more heart - 3.5/5

Japes with John at Kensingtons

February 23rd.

It was time to take the project into the centre of Brighton, to one of its more 'classical' breakfast venues. Kensingtons was a place I had walked past countless times since I've lived in Brighton, situated as it is on the same street as the Oxfam bookshop and Resident Records, but until last Saturday I had never stepped foot inside. Thanks to John Alexander-Finch's suggestion this was all going to change.

John is a fellow graduate of Sussex University's Creative and Critical Writing MA whom I met through our creative workshop in the final term. Interestingly, he very briefly worked with Simon (from Breakfast No. 2) at his current place of work before realising that that sort of thing wasn't for him. I don't think it would be for me either. Us writers are delicate sorts.

John is a talented writer who is slowly approaching the end of writing a novel. Having only been in a workshop with him for the one term I hadn't read much of his work, but what I had had impressed me. Particularly as one short piece had focused on the astronauts involved with the moon landing, and I had not long before that been writing a term paper on outer space as a utopia. John's space knowledge is fairly sound. He was able to explain that water could be reused on-board space stations through being absorbed into the walls and then passed through various different modules, taking out the different properties of whatever the water contained and putting them to good use. Something like that. He didn't explain all this precisely, he just told me that you could spit down a corridor and it would get absorbed into the walls and reused, but such is his grasp of language that that was all he needed to say. So yes, he's a good writer.

He's been writing alongside another chap from the workshop, George, and they have been reading each others pieces and giving support throughout the duration of their projects. John gave a very good analogy to illustrate the writing process, comparing writing skill to a muscle. It needs to be exercised regularly, otherwise it won't be strong enough to hold anything up. As a result, it's important to make writing a routine thing, like exercise, in order to keep oneself strong and healthy. Hopefully by the end of the year my breakfast writing style will be well toned and able to keep on going for ages without running out of steam.

He's also looked into food writing as well, and has actually read articles by proper food writers, such as Dave Arnold. This made me slightly nervous; here was a guy that knew his food writing (and in particular mavericks with vigilante distillation skills) and he was going to be eventually casting a discerning eye over my own naive and ill-informed attempts. It would just be like presenting a piece at a creative writing workshop all over again! Apparently a lot of food writers make up new words, such as "mouthfeel", in order to describe what they've eaten. This was good news. The other words I picked up from our chatting about four-winged dinosaurs, the AA handbook, hernias and astronauts probably wouldn't be much use for describing the food of Kensingtons.

And so, the breakfast:

Big Veggie
2 fried eggs, 2 veg sausages, 2 veg bacon, fried tomato, beans, 1 hash brown, 2 slice of toast w/ butter - comes with a tea or filter coffee

Big Veggie - £6.95

So, let me draw your attention firstly to the fried eggs and the hash brown...wait, hold on one second! There aren't any fried eggs or a hash brown! Crikey. I don't know if this is par for the course with Kensingtons; it was quite a busy afternoon so I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt on this one. On the plus side the range of drinks you were able to select included fruit juice, and my friend Ben who was working there gave me a free coffee upon my arrival. So, let's just forget this little mix up ever happened, shall we?

John Alexander-Finch - he knows his Alan Partridge

Last time out I mentioned that there were two kinds of vegetarian sausages doing the rounds; those that attempted to emulate their meatier cousins and those that went their own way. These sausages were of the latter school, Glamorgans, and were very crunchy and crispy. They were all crunchy crispy and no mouthfeel in fact, which was a disappointment. They offered more than the veg bacon though, which was anonymous in the dish. Its addition was a bold statement, but there was no strong mouthfeel taste there to back it up. As a side note I am bemused by the fact that the bacon rind was recreated, as surely this is the bit that no one likes?! Other culprits that didn't bring much to the table in this dish were the scrambled eggs, which had a decent texture but weak flavour, and the tomato. I was surprised by the tomato as it looked wonderful, but swiftly I discovered that the red fruit's juices was muted.

This dish though was a meal of contrasts. The other components of the breakfast were some of the best I have so far experienced. The mushrooms had been cooked in rosemary and this gave them a rich soaring taste, scented and salty, that elevated them above the other components surrounding them on the plate. The toast was seeded and pre-buttered, making it both soft and crunchy in texture, almost juicy. The real triumph, however, was the baked beans, standing proudly in their own little pot. This served to keep them tremendously warm and prevented them from flooding over the other components, allowing the eater to apply their beans according to their own individual taste. Should you enjoy a bit of flooding then you could just dump them all over the place. If you have more restraint in your bean leanings you could pick and choose precisely where to strike, seeking out vulnerable areas in the breakfast and utilising the saucy haricots productively. The sauce itself was intensely good; it was simultaneously creamy and tangy, begging you to apply the beans to all corners of the plate with gusto. It was positively mouthfeel.

Overall, my experience of breakfast at Kensingtons was somewhat chaotic. The mild anxiety provided by a packed house and a dish that did not match up to its description on the menu contrasted with some wonderful (albeit biased) service and some individual moments of sublimity. The cafe was also laced with some of the most enticing food aromas I have experienced in such a venue. It was just a shame that it was not the weather for a seat on the balcony, upon which I am told there are superb people-watching opportunities to be had. All in all it felt as though Kensingtons had the potential to be as incredibly mouthfeel and life-affirming as a good fastbreaking venue can be, but unfortunately had wandered astray at a couple of crucial points.

It also transpired that John is an avid Alan Partridge fan. After re-watching a couple of episodes it seems that I am uncomfortably close to Norfolk's most famous son. I'm not going to lie, I am slightly concerned about myself.

Function: hearty in volume at least 3/5
Adherence to canon: Yes
Taste: the best and worst of breakfasts juxtaposed 3/5
Value: quite a bit there, but quality variable for price  2/5
Presentation: excellent use of pot as a 'breakwater for the beans' 4/5
Venue: top smells and staff (a coincidence?) 4/5

Overall: full of beans, just lacking in direction - 3/5