Making a Meal of Nostalgia

 gallo pinto
gallo pinto

We have just had our six monthly visit from a health worker from the local clinic.
He visits every house in his area by motorbike over the gravel roads, dossiers and equipment in the box on the back which he slings over his shoulder to bring into the house.

We’ve come to know him well…a football fanatic, his first cry today after the regular greeting is

‘Italy! Uraguay! England!…..poor Costa Rica!’

Clearly the draw for the football World Cup could have been rather better arranged to his way of thinking!

It’s as much a social visit as a medical one….we discuss all manner of things including, of course, football, before we turn to the purpose of the visit.

How are we?

He checks my husband’s hospital appointments, asks about medication, if he has any problems….takes our blood pressures and asks if we are eating healthily.
Not just are we eating plenty of fruit and veg…but which and how much…and what else are we eating?

Which starts another chat about foreign food, its tastes and traditions.
How did we get a taste for Indian food? What do we think of Costa Rican food? What did we have for breakfast this morning?

He departs, the dust rising behind his motorbike as we see him off at the gate, and we go back to the house.

But what did we have for breakfast this morning?

My husband is breakfast chef in this establishment and split second timing is required of his commis (me).
Have I prepped the onions? The garlic?
Am I sure that there aren’t any tomatoes which need using more than those produced for inspection? Investigations are made followed by a triumphant return with one more with a soft spot…
Have I beaten the eggs with some black pepper and some of his potassium salt substitute?
Is the toast on? Does it need turning?

And what is the result of all this activity?

He has made us sick.

Or at least this is how the dish was christened by his sister as a child.

The onions are softened in olive oil, the quartered tomatoes follow on the top. When they are softened the crushed garlic is added and finally the beaten egg is turned into the pan and mixed in.
The result is piled on hot buttered toast….and despite the appearance which explains the nickname of the dish it is really very, very good.

I know what our health visitor had for breakfast too.

Gallo Pinto. Speckled Cockerel.

Based on rice and black beans, usually cooked off on the previous day, it sounds dull…but not at all!
The rice may have been cooked in plain water, but the black beans were cooked together with onions, garlic and coyote cilantro with its heavy persistent flavour.

To make breakfast his mother will have fried up chopped onion, garlic and sweet pepper and turned into the mix the rice and beans, finishing it with chopped cilantro (coriander).
It will have been topped with a fried egg, a fried plantain or natilla – sour cream – and is a great way to start the day.

When I was a child it was assumed that you could not hope to do a good day’s work, or do well at school, unless you had eaten a good breakfast and my mother would cook either bacon and eggs, or sausage, mushroom and tomato; boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, or poached eggs (plural you note) to be followed by toast and marmalade and to be finished half an hour before leaving the house in order to digest it.

It was a habit I stuck to…and blessed it when working where lunch meant ordering a sandwich in a brown paper bag from one of the nearby Italian sandwich bars accompanied by a cup of instant coffee.
It might have meant getting up earlier but thanks to that breakfast there was no need or desire to snack and enough energy to get home and cook an evening meal….the ranks of Spud-U-Like, KFC and the Star of India never tempted me on the way back from the station.

An introduction to France showed me the horrors of the Continental Breakfast.
Bread…a croissant…pain au chocolat…jam….chicory flavoured coffee -or, more likely, vice versa.
Ye gods and little fishes!
Battle of Agincourt explained.

Living in rural France later I was to discover that this was not the norm.
My elderly neighbours had soup for breakfast with the dry bread from yesterday soaked in it. Proper soup with veg from their own gardens with plenty of flavour and goodness.
Croissants…jam? Bof!
The coffee was the same though….

In Belgium I had their sort of breakfast…cold meats and cheeses…proper bread – even pistolei….and good coffee.
Battle of the Golden Spurs explained.

Even now. long retired, we cling to the solid breakfast routine.

Lunch is usually lighter. Danilo lunches with us on working days and is now well accustomed to the frequent arrival on the table of ‘worms’.
Chinese worms, Italian worms, worms worms.

Pasta, in all its shapes and forms.
Yesterday I made pasta shells with a sauce of broccoli, anchovy, sweet pepper and chilli….today it is linguine with spicy sausage in a sauce of tomato. onion, garlic, herbs and paprika.
Tomorrow it will be a stir fry with noodles.

In the evenings we generally have a plate of soup with bread and cheese. Easy to digest before bed and endlessly different with the range of veg available.

I have to admit to wondering how we ever managed to wade through all the courses we ate at lunch with French friends….only to start on the leftovers again in the evening….how it was that, had I taken a ‘selfie’ in those days, it would not have revealed something which would have had Captain Ahab sharpening his harpoon.

I couldn’t do it today, that’s for sure!

But I do have an atavistic longing for a good Scots breakfast…..

Not so much my grannie’s breakfast, copious and tasty as it was, but that of our holidays on the coast where we had access to that paradisiacal element – morning rolls.

Every summer the children of the extended family would be banded together somewhere on the west coast of Scotland; parents taking it in turns to act as warders. It gave both them and us a great deal of freedom.

While morning rolls were a staple…children sent to the bakery at an early hour…the other items of breakfast depended on the whims and tastes of the adults.

There was always porage. Proper porage, cooked on the back of the stove overnight and eaten with salt, with milk, or with brown sugar and cream according to your age. Youngest sweetest.

Then you might have a Loch Fyne herring coated in oatmeal and fried, accompanied by potato scones…goodness only knows where those herring have disappeared to…..

Or if Uncle Andra was in charge it would be an Arbroath smokie. to be eaten cold.

Or Ayrshire bacon with a fried slice of cloutie dumpling alongside.

And king of kings, the slice of square sausage.

A damn sight more solid than the snows of yesteryear, but gone from me just as certainly.


61 thoughts on “Making a Meal of Nostalgia”

    1. The visiting health worker seems such a good system…it’s a relaxed atmosphere and he tells me that people are much more likely to bring up a problem over a coffee in their own home than at a surgery where they think they are ‘bothering’ the doctor.

  1. Nice wander through gastronomic memories. I remember solid breakfasts among my farming relatives. Those women were up while the moon was high, getting the noon meal ready for the men come in from the fields, handling breakfast on the side. Ham, bacon, eggs, potatoes, pie to wash it down.
    My sister ran a week long teaching venue for several years. They set the menu with the establishment. The first morning there were croissants and coffee. There was hell to pay. These women need protein, she was yelling at the maitre d. I ordered, eggs, bacon, etcetcetc. That kitchen staff did some fast scurrying to set it right before the students appeared. And they needed protein to get from breakfast to lunch in those classes!

    1. I’d always taken a solid breakfast for granted until going abroad for the first time.
      My schoolfriends had similar backgorunds…and even as students – non cooking – we managed a proper breakfast at the Italian caffs near the university.

  2. I breakfast very lightly and. as you allude, then spend a considerably portion of the day distractedly snacking. I must admit, your childhood breakfast is something I would gladly get up earlier for. Food for thought indeed.

    1. It doesn’t have to be a big performance to do – especially if you grill rather than fry as in my mother’s day, leaving you just the eggs to do on the stove.
      If I have a long day in San Jose chasing up paperwork I can still go through the day on just a coffee with a breakfast behind me.

  3. How great that you have a health worker that visits your home. I wish the US medical system would transition to something like that. So many costs could be saved if prevention was the onus, not treatment after the fact.

    Ahh, and now I’m thinking of a fresh croissant for breakfast in France. Although many places try here, none can perfect that pastry like the French. 🙂

    1. So right about prevention! It doesn’t stop everything, but it certainly helps.
      And as for croissants… my experience they were distinctly variable, but if you got a good one you’d stick with that bakery.

  4. Mount watering… I’m having something of a cross between what the man made for breakfast and gallo pinto over fried bread with garlic. YUM… All after a long walk up the hill home. I love this pastoral existence as much as you write about. It’s another wonderful post. I look forward to each one with great pleasure!

  5. Ah, that reminds me. I will go and soak some oatmeal now so that I can eat it tomorrow for breakfast. It’s years since I have had oatmeal porridge but someone gave me some pinhead oatmeal and I’ve decided to make the real stuff. whatever I do with it, it has the texture of fine gravel, but I am sure soaking will do the trick!

    Once again WordPress has done its thing. It won’t recognise my password and email combination. I just can’t face resetting everything tonight so I’m afraid you will have to accept this instead of a comment on the post. Still, I do read your posts 🙂

    Jenny Woolf

    1. I do wish these WP and Blogger people could get their acts together…it is so frustrating.

      Still, thank you for reading…and being kind enough to persist with WP long enough to tell me!

      Enjoy your porage!

  6. What a lovely post. I’m going to get out my secret stash of rolled oats and make myself a bowl of porridge, I love the stuff. It makes my gallic other half physically cringe to see me eating it, but as far as I’m concerened it’s no more disgusting to watch than when he dips his baguette, butter and jam into his coffee.
    I’m not sure I could stomach rice and beans for breakfast, though..

    1. I have this vision of mutual revulsion over the breakfast table…..
      Would he prefer it if you let the leftover porage cool in a tin, then sprinkle it with oats and fry it in squares? Delicious cooked in bacon fat…

  7. My dad used to cook up a bacon breakfast when I was growing up. Every day we had bacon, eggs, fried bread, tomato and mushroom, with toast and marmalade to finish. I still enjoy that when I go away and someone else is cooking it.

    My normal breakfast is porridge in the cold months and sugar-free muesli in the summer, but I’ve started trying fruit smoothies too just for a change.

    I sit in an office all day so couldn’t cope with a beans etc. breakfast but I can see the appeal for you as you’re on the go the whole time.

    1. I’ll have gallo pinto if we are travelling….but I don’t often make it at home as we usually have a supply of eggs and tomatoes that need using.
      Muesli I cannot stomach at all, but i do fruit juice, as we have all these citrus trees on the place.

  8. I grew up on a farm in Australia and we didn’t go in for cooked breakfasts. Cornflakes, toast with vegemite or honey, coffee for the grown-ups. Scrambled eggs for breakfast was a treat and for non-working days. Mum would do porridge in the winter.

    I’m interested into the glimpse of peasant life and the soup for breakfast.

    I agree that the health visitor system works very well. My mother worked in a similar job in rural Australia. Families in relatively isolated situations find it a tremendous support. As a consequence she knows absolutely everyone in the district and she and my father have a lot of local support now they are old and my sister and I are not there.

    1. The soup surprised me too….it was made for the evening with enough left over for the morning when with the bread it was more like a pommade than a soup.

      A lot of the chaps still had the early rising habit – up at four, a glass of gnole (eau de vie) then out to see to their cattle or sheep. Retired they may have been but they always had some, or were helping their sons out.
      Then they came in at seven and had breakfast.

      The lunch would be a stew of some kind, prepared and put into an earthenware dish with a concave lid, sealed with flour paste and put into the ashes, with hot ashes on top of the lid so that the lady of the house could see to her poultry and whatnot and give a hand outside where required.
      They might have had modern cookers but saw no point in using gas unless they had to.

      When I was first there one old chap was still cooking in a cauldron despite his family buying him a gas cooker…fascinating to see the kilner jars going in divided by planks of wood to keep them separate.

      I was surprised and pleased to find that we had health visitors….very unstuffy people and not at all authoritarian, so I can see what ours means about people opening up about problems – not all of them medical.

  9. Needless to say I appreciate your reference to the Golden Spurs Battle!
    The pistolets are always responsible for a certain amount of confusion, especially in the area of Brussels where we live and where we have had and still have a huge influx of French citizens (the friends of Gerard Depardieu 🙂 ). They think Belgians have guns next to their breakfast plates.
    A list of the most desirable retirement places on the globe toured around Facebook yesterday. Costa Rica is placed number 3. I believe it … a local clinic sending out heath civil servants.. where else?

    1. Perhaps they need guns next to their plates to repel the Depardieux!

      I always rather relish the battle of Kortrijk too!

      Costa Rica is no paradise and it would not do to believe all the guff about how eco friendly it is….but it does have a lot of good points.

      The bureaucracy is a doddle after France – and the health service – at least in the Central Valley area where we live – is very good indeed.

  10. I’m impressed with your home visiting health worker. I wouldn’t like it, but I think it’s a good idea, especially if someone is actually on meds. Community health services in the UK always seemed to be a disaster to me, not that they were bad, the co-ordination was shit, but that epitomises the NHS. I speak from a managerial perspective and not as a customer, so I dread to think what the patients thought. Usually thought all doctors and nurses were wonderful and grateful to get any care I suspect.

    Breakfast. I grew up on bacon. Virtually force fed the stuff. Given that my father sold loads of dead pigs every week on his market stall, it went without saying that there was always a couple of pounds a week for home for my breakfast before school.

    But I was picky. I didn’t like smoked bacon, and I didn’t like more than one thing with it. Bacon and tomato, or mushrooms (when I eventually decided I liked them), or occasionally an egg, or later courgette or sauté potatoes. But not all together. Just bacon (two rashers, sliced on number 6) plus the accompaniment of my choice.

    I only stopped eating bacon and whatever when I became vegetarian The Rayburn was a godsend for porridge. I have phases of buying muesli and then it sits in a box for ages. I don’t really like it, I just quite like something to mop up soya milk.

    In Spain we have anything and everything for breakfast. Often leftover legume casserole from the day before, or my version of papas a la/lo pobre with garlic and chillies plus pimientos stuffed with salt. Sometimes I’ll do some tapas with it. Or sandwiches. Or tortilla when the chickens were laying. Or whatever. Right now in Gib, it’s mostly potatoes to shovel in the carbs as it is cold and Partner needs food before embarking on the building site.

    You have reminded me I need to put haricot beans to soak though to do some baked beans which is another winter fave.

    Confession: I do like a continental breakfast. Orange juice, delicious coffee and a good croissant. But not buttered or with anything on it. Yuk. Not that you can get good croissants in Spain, they are all huge and unbuttery. Probably full of manteca 😦 rather than mantequilla. Oh and pain chocolates here are vile. Toast is easier with olive oil and garlic. Although when I’ve been at Málaga waiting for the bus, I’ve wandered over to the station and bought a salad and a glass of wine.

    Breakfast should be whatever you want it to be.

    1. No experience of health visitors in the U.K. but I can give you the view of mother and friends on their medical contacts….

      Doctor – their own – fine.
      Doctor – locum – regarded with suspicion.
      Nurse – likewise until proved otherwise.
      Not grateful, as they reckon they’ve more than paid for the NHS in their lives, just pleased when it works.

      I’ll cook breakfast for myself if on my own, where I won’t bother for lunch or supper….but I am not averse to reheating a leftover curry. With a few pickled limes it certainly gets the system running on full!

      1. My mother was of the generation who venerated all doctors. Her last doctor was an idiot. OK, not strictly true, but he wasn’t a good GP. I went to see him with her and asked about her health, what she should do, etc etc. ‘I appreciate your concern and your interest but it’s obviously up to Margaret to decide about her own health and she needs to know what to do.’ Well, that’s fine Simon, but it isn’t you she rings at whacky hours in the morning if she is worried and can’t remember what to take or what to do. She may seem totally lucid right now, but I guarantee in ten minutes she will not remember what you have said, whereas I will. Anyway, months later after she had dropped dead, while he was having a wild holiday in Thailand, it finally took a neighbour to point out that one of his patients had died. Total tosser. But as I say my mother loved him and my father thought he was fine too. Doctors and nurses are NOT gods.

        We’ve all paid for the NHS, just a shame we no longer have access to it … so good on your Costa Rica service. Maybe I should move.

        1. I have a jaundiced view of both occupations.

          When very young I spent a lot of time in hospital with eye problems and my parents – thanks to distance between home and hospital – could not visit very often.
          On one visit my father brought a pineapple and asked the ward nurses to keep it in their kitchen and to share it out between the six children in my section…a pineapple was a rare beast in those days.
          We never saw that pineapple…..I asked about it (bolshy even then) and was told I must have misunderstood.
          I have trusted no nurse at first sight since then….though I’ve known several who were top rate, but many more who were incompetent and uncaring.

          And as to the quacks….seeing medical students at close quarters made me think…my life in your hands…I wouldn’t take odds!
          Too many in it because daddy was a doctor….though again I have had some super doctors in my time – and some louses.

          American immigrants here moan about the queues…..a queue doesn’t bother me when you have a doctor’s full attention when you see him and have a thorough follow up after every appointment.

          Needless to say the government is trying to privatise it by the back door….

          1. My view is obv skewed having worked in NHS. But as a kid (when I didn’t work in NHS) I was in hospital at 5 or 6 for tonsils and adenoids out. Nasty nasty nurse complained if I knocked my bedtime book off the cabinet thing and wanted her to pick it up. Hey, I was sick. Pretty badly sick. To the extent that when I was taken home, I was rushed back in for an emergency blood transfusion. Vomiting blood? my speciality.

            Medics. Hmm. Not just working with them but meeting students at university. I had some good medic pals but I sure wouldn’t want them working on me.

            Apparently one of the best medics to serve our Spanish village was South American. Gone now, no idea who is there for now as I never go.

  11. The health check visit is brilliant. If only…….., although I have been impressed with our local surgery since my illness. I have received a couple of ” How are you doing ? ” phonecalls from my Dr. However, I was mortified to find that when I wanted an appointment to see her a few weeks ago ( nothing serious), playing the ” I am a cancer patient” card did not miraculously produce an appointment any sooner than I was first offered ! ( That wouldn’t have happened a few months ago…. so I must be so much better ).
    Your breakfast sounds fabulous, and I am so much in agreement about the croissant and coffee joke that is supposed to be the wonderful French breakfast. WE are porridge people in the winter, and having given up cow’s milk, I am delighted to discover that porridge made with water and a small amount of goat’s milk, is amazing…or at least it is when Mark makes it.
    I am going to have to put some serious thought into summer breakfasts….or breakfasts in France, as I really do not want to eat more damn bread . I will look through all your responses and make a decision…..there seem to be some pretty good ideas floating around amongst your followers.
    Happy New Year, fondest wishes, Janice xxx

    1. The six monthly health check is a super idea…..they are strong on prevention here with all sorts of health campaigns going on and the visits are part of this programme.
      It’s not at all intrusive or pushy – our chap certainly isn’t – but helpful, as he has ideas about diet to suggest as well as checking that any prescribed pills and potions are being used correctly.
      I’m glad that the lack of instant response by your local surgery indicates that all is on the upward path!

      I’ve always made porage with water….but I like mine with salt and, as I said above, I also like it cold, cubed, coated in flour and oatmeal and fried….Think the savoury equivalent of fried custard as to method.

      Visitors when we were in France seemed obsessed with this damned continental breakfast…..but the husbands were starving by mid morning and into hunks of bread and pate…..

      Good luck with the non bread French breakfast – but you are right, people kind enough to comment here are usually full of good ideas.

  12. I love your description of sick – in our house, slop is a favourite (probably better known as Eton Mess – which come to think of it is only marginally better than slop). Even in restaurants the girls will tell us they’re ordering slop, but to date they’ve always used the menu description when the waiter took the order…

  13. Those English breakfasts were things of great beauty. In my pre-vegetarian days I remember going to smoky workmens’ cafes for a proper fry-up: sausages, bacon, beans, mushrooms, eggs, tomatoes and a fried slice, with a bottle of HP sauce within easy reach. The fried slice soaked up the juice from the tomatoes and the egg yolk ….. Now we are porridge addicts, it is TOH’s sole cooking skill. Although the idea of soup for breakfast doesn’t excite me, I’ve been known to eat a plate of cold bread sauce, or a dish of curry first thing. Damn, this is making me hungry.

    Super post, as always.

    1. I gather that the merchant navy – when there was one – served curry for breakfast on the boats of the grander shipping lines……
      Leo remembers fried egg in a cone of rice pancake liberally dosed with chilli when in Ceylon but as yet I have resisted all calls to make said pancake.
      As a student I could not cook to start off with but once out of halls of residence reality struck and together with flatmates started the learning curve which seemed so steep it was no wonder we fell off it so often.

      Breakfast was always at one of the Italian caffs near the university…roll, bacon and fried egg – gorgeous!

  14. I have to admit that we did, and do, have a very occasional cooked breakfast, but it is generally if we are late for some reason and it becomes brunch. I generally grab a bowl of cereal on the run while N insists on eating his in a chair watching the morning news.

    We have found the nurses here locally are excellent, they have given us our annual vaccinations etc. and the neighbour up the road who has not been well for some time gets a daily visit.

    Keep well Diane

    1. Yes, the local nurses were fine – but their visits were always linked to something that had happened so it was quite a surprise to find that we had a regular health visitor!

  15. What a terrific post! I’m intrigued by the idea of a health care worker who comes around every six months. And I loved your description of the food. The best breakfasts I have ever eaten anywhere have been in Scotland.

  16. My stale bread with honey looks a bit sad now….as indeed was I after eating it.
    Send one of your girls round to make my breakfast Scots or Costa Rican style, I care not……

  17. Good job I had a hearty bowl of porridge (it’s how I spell it too, Dumdad, but I do make it in a traditional manner) – otherwise I’d be starving after reading this delicious post. I’m glad to say I agree with all you say and am at the moment, gently frying onions and garlic ready to make – not sick – but a Spanish tortilla…and I am also making some of my special rice pudding for when my children arrive, ravenous. from school.
    My grandpa always said ‘Breakfast like a King, Dinner like a Prince and Supper like a Pauper’….worked for him.
    Sounds like you have a lovely health worker!

    1. Oddly enough I find that it’s not the food blogs that get me feeling hungry…but the throwaway recipes in other blogs.
      Rice pudding is a great favourite here too where it’s cooked with sultanas and cinnamon as opposed to the nutmeg i’m used to.

      Did you see a recipe for mashed potato tortilla on No Damn Blog recently?
      i tried that and it is super.

      Our health worker is a really nice man…and if I did have a problem I can see I’d be happy to talk to him about it.

  18. I was just about to mention that your breakfast sounded like our menemen, but BtoB beat me to it. I love it. We also have soup for breakfast quite often, in winter mostly, usually mercimek (lentil). What a mouthwatering post…I feel quite hungry now!

  19. Food, how come that it draws us into the past always?
    Mother’s cooking, simple and cheap and not even very healthful, the mere thought of it, the recollection of the aroma of particular dishes, instantly reawakens long ago memories.

    1. You are right…it takes us back into a lost world.
      My mother was a good plain cook – though we once did make strudel pastry together – and stuck to a pre ordained rota of meals which varied only with whatever veg was in season.
      Doing my homework in the front of the house if i hadn’t known that it was Thursday the smell of liver and bacon casserole from the kitchen would have enlightened me….

  20. Well WP “ate” the comment I tried to leave on your last post…So fingers crossed….
    Love the health visitor–great idea. So far we’ve been impressed with the health service here in France.
    My breakfast has always been more of the continental type but as a child we always had a cooked b’fast at the weekends when my dad cooked — mom cooked during the week.
    If I’m not at work we tend to have our main meal at lunch and go for soup or something light at supper.
    I used to cook something very similar to your “sick” as a student. It was 1/2 way between scrambled eggs and an omelette with whatever veg was going and ham or bacon bits if there were any, served on toast.

    1. Whatever is it with WP…you are not alone in having problems!

      I wasn’t over enamoured of the French health service… to wit: one badly set broken shin bone; chemotherapy in direct contradiction to an accepted treatment plan; lack of follow up; use of my husband was a guinea pig without obtaining consent and subsequent permanent effects….no, not a happy bunny at all.
      Luckily we finally had a GP who would fight for my husband…but he was a Basque….

      As a student I could not cook…so you may imagine the pleasures of setting up in the first student flat. Very hard boiled eggs a staple to start with…..and the luxury of a Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie in a tin when the whole disaster became too much….

      1. LOL! a very good friend of mine had no idea how long to boil an egg for and managed to boil it so long it exploded! It left an interesting mark on the ceiling, besides frightening her flatmates half to death!

  21. I could have sworn I’d commented on here, but it looks like WP ate mine too. 😦 How great to have a regular home health check from a professional like that. i wouldn’t mind betting that DH’s high blood pressure would have been discovered long ago if we had the same system.

    My mother was a staunch advocate of a good hot breakfast before leaving for work and school, but nowadays a cooked breakfast is a very occasional treat for us. Our normal breakfast is porridge, though DH make follow that with a slice or two of toast mid-morning. Lunch is normally the biggest mixed salad I can concoct and supper is usually something with rice or pasta or one of my meal-in-a-pot soups with my own bread. Very simple, but never boring. 😉

    1. I do wish Blogger and WP could get their all too varying acts together….thank you for persisting, though!

      I tend to do salads on the weekend when Danilo is not lunching with us as he is not a greenstuff fan and then will do something a bit heavier for an early supper.

      I enjoy well made toast…but have just learned from ‘The Guardian’ that there are now places in the U.K. selling a slice or two of ‘artisan’ toast for over two quid!
      How is it that something poor people make suddenly becomes worth something when in the hands of the exploitative hippies?

  22. I completely understand the hint of nostalgia concerning the West-of-Scotland (Glasgow) morning rolls for breakfast. My favorite was using beef ham with Jamaica pepper, but ordinary bacon would do in a pinch, and Lorne Sausage with brown sauce/branston pickle would do as well.

    Continental breakfasts (especially from Scandinavia) with cold meats, salami and cheese (with holes in it) is quite acceptable, but the french cafe au lait avec croissant is ok for a quick snack in bed before the main event.

    Fried potato scones… drool.

    1. I never had the beef ham….but my grandmother used to make mutton hams which she wrapped well and kept in oatmeal…I haven’t tasted it since but now the flavour comes back to me.
      I’ll think about making it here from our own sheep…though tropical conditions are not ideal for meat curing.
      Branston pickle on the square sausage…food for the Gods!
      I shall be making potato scones tomorrow for breakfast – worth getting up a bit earlier to cook the spuds!

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