|Menu: written by lawyers.|
|Object next to the bacon is a rock hard sausage|
|The "other" menu|
What I had in fact ordered is described slightly more accurately above on a second menu, aside from the Orwellian title given to it: The "Great Big" British Breakfast.
It'd be fairer to describe it thus:
A plate of chips with an egg and a rock hard sausage, bit of bacon, tomato, and a shitty mushroom that seems to be composed mostly of cooking oil and dreams. Also comes with bread.
What's annoying about this whole sorry affair is I blame myself for it entirely. Places like this have always been tourist traps. Furthermore, the last time I went in there I sat for half an hour or so without service only to give up and leave for work. This was a few months ago and I remember thinking then;"well, what did you expect?".
|I blame this book "The Octavo"|
|Left all the carbs ... two thirds of the meal|