Everything: It's What's for Breakfast

I might actually be dying.

The food was amazing, but there was so much of it. I ate until I was in physical pain and still only ate about half of it. I've learned that I do not enjoy black pudding. I tried, I really did. The taste wasn't even unpleasant, it tasted a bit like Thanksgiving. But the texture put me off and then there's the mental factor of knowing what exactly you are eating and I just couldn't get past it. I gave it a go, but I think my relationship with black pudding may be at its end.

Another new experience for me was thick British bacon. Not thick because it is British bacon. Thick compared to OTHER British bacon. All the food we have eaten here has been locally sourced, which means that if you want your bacon cut thicker, you just ask your butcher to cut your bacon thicker. The shopkeeper did just that and I learned something new about bacon. There is actually a bacon spectrum. At one end is streaky bacon, what we think of as Americans when we hear the word "bacon." At the other end is back Bacon, what they understand to mean bacon in the UK. For your reference, it's on the left side of my plate in the picture. If you blow right past back bacon and THEN decide to slow down, you'll end up somewhere juuuuust outside of pork chop territory. That's this bacon. It fights back.

I also already got lost. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I should have turned left. I did, in fact, NOT do that and as a result nearly ended up behind the bar. Which, although not an inherently bad place to find yourself, is not where respectable young women (I'm talking about me) are located before 9 AM. Hopefully this is a one and done situation.Læs mere