Because last week and Friday in particular were quite hectic, I couldn’t be bothered to go shopping on Friday evening. Mrs johnm55 suggested that we go out early on Saturday morning and have breakfast in the café at Tesco before we did the shopping.
One of the great things about a traditional British breakfast is that it is almost impossible, even for Tesco, to mess it up. So before shopping I had a full, heart-attack threatening, plate of bacon, fried egg, sausages, black pudding, hash browns, and to add a bit of healthy eating, some baked beans. The breakfast was fine, and set me up for the grocery shopping, but beyond that was nothing memorable. However it started a train of thought, because a lot of the meals that I truly remember have been breakfasts.
A Scotsman in Suburbia 