Munch While You Crunch

I'VE just stumbled upon a great, very witty blog called The London Review of Breakfasts.
It reminded me just how much I love eating out for breakfast - a topic I waxed lyrical about in an earlier post Most Definitely the most Important Meal of the Day.
However, the credit crunch has taken it's toll and instead of petit dejuner al fresco, it's been bread and gruel for months.
However, in desperation I decided to try an recreate a wonderful breakfast I've eaten once, or twice, (when money flowed like wine in a Keith Floyd cooking demo) at Mortons Kitchen, Bar and Deli, in Dickens Heath, near Solihull.
The Morton's version involves a bowl of homemade chunky granola, served with milk, and topped with a wedge of oozing honeycomb. In my book, it's grub to die for.
My home version though was also excellent, thanks to some superb store cupboard staples.
In place of the granola- which I have made, but not on this occasion - I used a variety-sized packet of Dorset Cereal's Fruit, Nuts and Seeds muesli. Any variety of Dorset Cereals muesli will do though. They are packed with premium fruits and nuts making for an excellent granola substitute which is also kinder to the gnashers and waistline.
Equally good is one of Dorset Cereal's new chunky slices crumbled up, such as the pistachio and pumpkin seed one.
A giant blob of zero fat Greek yogurt (I like Total) follows and then the all important honeycomb.
Fortunately I had a lovely box of Cottage Delights honeycomb from the boy for Christmas and it's been smiling at me from it's shelf in the store cupboard for a while, although I was saving it for a special occasion.
But what better occasion than a sunny Saturday morning after a hard working week?
What is your idea of a perfect homemade breakfast? Let me know and I will give them a try....

A Taste of Paradise

I DON'T quite know what I had done to deserve it but the boy delivered me breakfast in bed yesterday morning.
Maybe it was the arrival of thick snow overnight which had brought out his nurturing side, but whatever the reason, I couldn't have been more delighted with my little tray of treats to feast on while I remained snuggled under.
It's even more decadent than it sounds because - being a Thursday - I still had to get up and earn a crumb.
And it was the ideal tonic for a wintry morning with - along with a warming cup of coffee - fresh peach juice, sliced pineapple and a bowl of Rachel's Organic Greek-style coconut yogurt.
I've been a fan of Rachel's Organic yogurts for quite a while after eating my first one - a blackberry flavoured one - as part of a Eurostar breakfast last year.
However, this was something else. Rich, sweet and full of shredded coconut, it like eating a melted Bounty icecream, sans the chocolate.
And what's more, I've just discovered the Rachel's Organic website which is packed full of gorgeous recipes, including one for a Thai chicken curry, using the aforementioned yogurt.
Nice idea... but I am not sure it'd ever make it into the cooking pot pan.
Have look and see if it makes your mouth water too....
www.rachelsorganic.co.uk

Breakfast at Emily's

I'M so over birthday dinners. You can forget birthday lunches too.
For me, it's all about breakfast.
Why wait half the day to celebrate when you can do so as soon as the larks are in the trees?
To mark the mum-in-law's big day we hosted an informal family breakfast for seven.
Build-your-own doorstop bacon and sausage sarnies were the party staple, served with homemade tomato chutney or good old Heinz tomato ketchup.
Toast with chunky strawberry jam (also concocted in my kitchen) was also on offer and slices of cantaloupe melon and juicy pineapple proved perfect palate cleanser before hitting the birthday cakes.
Candles extinguished, we tucked into carrot cake with cream cheese topping and sticky gingerbread wedges, all washed down with coffee and juice.
What better way to start a new year?

Most definately the most important meal of the day

ONE of my favourite little luxuries is going out for breakfast. Whether it's at a hotel after an overnight stay, a pavement cafe or a greasy spoon, I take no greater pleasure than browsing a breakfast menu. White, brown or bloomer bread toast? Preserves, granola, dry cured back bacon. Those are words that float my boat.
It was over breakfast at the Clumber Park Hotel last weekend (wholemeal toast, chunky strawberry jam, fruit compote and yogurt) that my better half and I mused over where our favourite breakfasts had been.
We'd been to The Wolseley in London once. The elegant restaurant, a former car showroom on Picadilly, is almost as famous for its celebrity clientele as its breakfast. I remember, as I tucked in to my golden goblet of yogurt and nectarine and peach compote, that I was bitterly disappointed to see that the only other diners were fellow celeb hunters, looking equally downcast. Where on Earth was Elton John? Aside from that, the food and service was excellent. The homemade bread was moreish and I loved the silver jam server. On the other half of the table, the man reported that his omelette with jamon and gruyere was one of the best he'd tasted.
A similarly exquisite bread basket was devoured at Le Pain Quotidien in Santa Monica, California, while we hungrily waited for the nearby Border Grill to open for brunch. We'd kidded ourselves that we could bypass breakfast in favour of an 11.30am brunch, which incidentally we didn't make, having stuffed ourselves with bread, jam and cappuccino.
And while bread's on the agenda, or more to the point pastries, there were none better than those at the Yountville Inn, California, which has a daily delivery of goodies from Thomas Keller's Bouchon Bakery.
Having sampled Keller's pastries there was little need to go to Bouchon in Las Vegas, so instead we opted for the oppulent Champagne breakfast at the Wynn where everything from enchilladas to sashimi and icecream was on offer and I discovered there's only so much Champagne you can drink so early (about half a glass).
The other half cherishes memories of bacon in Bangkok, which sounds more lewd (and/or more interesting) than it is. Crispy to perfection, he said. So good he'd craft a sandwich and then slip it into his rucksack for later consumption.
We both agreed that by far the most exotic location we'd enjoyed breakfast was in an open air restaurant overlooking the ocean in Phuket, while the least was in a grubby roadside shack called Donut Express in Orange County, California. Despite having to avert our eyes from the down-and-out diners, we gorged to our heart's content on sugared donuts, bagels and mango smoothies.
And the strangest breakfast was served on a train between Delhi and Agra. Presented with a little foil tray, it contained a battered shape and two chips.
Anyway, I've rambled for long enough so where do you think serves the best breakfast? Are you a fry-up person or do you prefer a more modest meal?