In the UK I don’t think I ever went out for breakfast. There were the times after school drop off when I was on maternity leave with J that I would stop for a cup of tea and a croissant at a local cafe in NW3. That was usually in addition to what I’d had at home and I was just being a bit of a pig, so it doesn’t count as breakfast. But here in New York it’s all about breakfast. Every diner is chocka with people filling up for the day.
My experience so far has been focused mainly on pancakes. I love pancakes. And we are talking about thick, large as dinner plates pancakes often filled with fruit and smothered in maple syrup. I have tried them in many diners now and they are good all of the time. I love them with apples and cinnamon and I love them with mushed up blueberries oozing out of the middle. Makes me hungry to think of it and it’s late afternoon here.
Most breakfasts I have tried have, with pancakes excepted, been a bit cheap. There’s a reason why the breakfast offering is cheap and that’s because the ingredients are cheap. Cardboard toast, Lipton tea (not proper tea, just a cup of hot water with a poor excuse for a teabag on the side in a little paper jacket), watered down orange juice and just as watery eggs. I avoid the places that do this and wonder why anyone still goes in to them, but they seem to do OK.
Friday just gone J and I tried a new place for breakfast and it was great. We had two massive pancakes, a side of scrambled egg, a glass of fresh orange juice that wasn’t watered down and a cup of tea (Liptons, but I’ll excuse it because the rest was so nice). Fabulous service, clean surroundings and a warm welcome for J. And we left stuffed for ten bucks including tax and tip. Amazing. I will miss this slither of New York life when we return to NW3. Maybe I will set up a diner and see if I can export this approach.