What a man has for his breakfast is his own affair. I know some of my friends who swear by the full cooked English, piling their plates with sausages, rashers of bacon, eggs, hash browns, griddled mushrooms and the rest. That's their business, and they're welcome to it.
For those of that ilk, Wetherspoon’s Full English Breakfast is something I can heartily recommend. When I have tried it, I have rarely emerged dissatisfied (although one or two establishments that it would be churlish for me to name have occasionally served the bacon just a little on the tepid side).
In my later years, I’ve found myself drifting towards eating cereal for my first meal of the day. What can beat a bowl of crunchy Bran Flakes, whether that be the Kellog variety or the reasonable and tasty own-brand alternative available at Aldi?
Reflecting on this in the company of a delightful young lady who was attending a conference I was speaking at earlier this week, I characterised myself as a ‘cereal monogamist’. For some reason, that seemed to be her cue to terminate the conversation and leave the bar, so I never did get to find out her views on the subject. Perhaps I should have waited to discuss it over breakfast, the next day?
