Simpsons-in-the-Strand, London

Credit is a system whereby a person who cannot pay gets another person who cannot pay to guarantee that he can pay.

Charles Dickens

I wonder if Dickens had good credit at his old haunt, Simpson's-in-the-Strand, 100 Strand, London, Tel +44 20 7836 9112? These days, at around 20-quid-a-head for breakfast, it's certainly the kind of place where you want someone else to pay. But for a great British experience, the Great British breakfast is worth the cash. Or credit. If you can still get it.

Bleeding Heart Tavern, London

There's something a little creepy about eating black pudding in a place called Bleeding Heart Tavern, Bleeding Heart Yard (off Greville Street), London, Tel +44 20 7242 2056. Especially when you hear the urban legend of Lady Elizabeth Hatton being ripped limb from limb by her jilted Spanish lover, leaving her dismembered body in the yard, and her heart pumping blood across the cobblestones. But I was in the mood for a Full English, so there was no dodging the blood sausage.



A very fine Full English it was, too. Both fried and scrambled eggs were good (the latter soft and creamy). Tasty beans and tomatoes. A trio of meats (black pud, suffolk bacon and a fat snag). And a few fresh slices of builder's crack toast.

Curiously, this fine English fry up was produced by a bunch of French people, who now run the tavern. Which means you can also get house-baked croissants, if you prefer less blood and meat with your breakfast. Coffee was OK, but tea always seems a safer bet in London.

Roast, London

Fancy a fried slice? Get yourself to Roast, The Floral Hall, Stoney Street (above Borough Market), London, Tel +44 20 7940 1300. The "Full Borough" comes with fried sausages, fried bacon, fried black pudding, fried mushrooms (grilled, actually) and... fried bread. You could round this out with fried eggs, but I went scrambled...



All this "deliciously British" food is, according to the Roast spin doctors, designed to show that good old-fashioned British grub is more than a match for the muck they serve across the channel. In reality, the only highlight of the Roast fry-up was the bangers, which were excellent (apparently they source their snags from a guy who was once "sausage-maker to the Queen"). The black pudding wasn't bad either. The rest was nothing special. Sloppy scrambled eggs. Crisp, greasy, fried bread (presumably stale bread). Streaky bacon and some veg.

That Roast is more spin than substance should come as no surprise. The guy who started it was a PR flack before he got into the restaurant game. And spin is one of the defining traits of Blair's Britain. Perhaps substance will make a comeback under Gordon Brown? A splash of Brown sauce certainly adds spice to an otherwise dull breakfast.

Other than the sausages, the best thing about Roast is the venue. It's light, open and airy, with big windows all round. Assuming it's not raining too hard, you can look across the river at the London skyline, or you can look down at Borough Market below.

At £12, the "Full Borough" wasn't cheap. Far better value would be the two boiled eggs with Marmite soldiers, for £3.80. Or maybe the "Tattie scone with smoked streaky bacon, field mushrooms and a fried egg" at a mere £8.50.

12/20 "fried slice"

Back to the Bot

This morning we achieved the impossible. We booked a table for breakfast at The Bot. I know this because when I asked for our table, I was told "we don't do breakfast bookings". Hmmm... then why did someone take a booking last night? Oh... that's odd... you do have a booking. How did you manage that?



After a short wait, they managed to boot some other poor sod off our table and ushered us inside for what turned out to be a great brunch. I went the full woody, otherwise known as the full wood-roasted Botanical breakfast. Served on a hot iron plate, this monster-truck of breakfast includes cheese kransky, smoked bacon, baked beans, black pudding, roasted tomatoes, field mushrooms, roasted kipfler potatoes and a toasted muffin topped with eggs (scrambled in my case).

The back pudding was probably the highlight, with a funky taste and almost fibrous texture. I think it was made with barley and walnuts... and fat and pigs blood, of course. A rare treat.

We also tried the salmon benedict which was almost too perfect for words. The poached eggs had been carefully trimmed and groomed like a pair of prize poodles, and the hollandaise was neatly flecked with just the right amount of salmon roe and a hint of chives. Pretty as a picture.



To wash it all down, I had a glass of the 2004 Delas Viognier. Excellent. Viognier may well be my new favorite wine. That, and Petit Verdot.

17/20 "moving up"