A proper breakfast for the Cambridgeshire
Somewhere, there is a Nirvana, where chaps are served breakfast by kindly, attractive people who are jolly, attentive, and know how to stay schtum. They silently, smilingly work in a light, airy restaurant with a wide, sunlit terrace overlooking the sea. At night, even when there is a slight chill, the restaurant diners can still glimpse the twinkling lights of the yachts and night fishermen heading out for a crack at some squid.
This particular establishment's greatest joy is its specialisation in serving breakfast, for it only has breakfast on the menu. The breakfasts hail from France, Germany, Italy, Canada, America, and even Russia. The Orient, for example, is represented by tasty Dim Sum and Rice dishes full of freshly gralloched innards, or pots of steaming Pho. Every corner of the globe has its breakfast correctly represented. However, each of those poor satellites is merely in orbit around the centre of the gastronomic morning galaxy and you will find, sat in the centre of the eight pages of the almost A3-sized restaurant Carte, the magical words
