Thursday's Child: Breakfast at the Fox and Anchor

Photo used courtesy of Philip Wilkinson

One of the pleasures of travelling is enjoying the food of our destination.  Visiting France as a poor, young student,  I picnicked on bread and cheese every day.  I remember thinking I couldn't possibly be eating better, and I was right.  Regardless of my budget, I remember the meals I've eaten on trips as much as any of the sights I've seen.  This month I'm going to share some of my favourite trip memories as they relate to food.

A contender for my most memorable meal was breakfast at the Fox and Anchor pub in London, England.  We had arrived in London the night before and were predictably jet-lagged.  Andrew’s relatives graciously served us an elegant gourmet meal with a different wine at every course.  The meal went well into the night.

All of it was fine, except for this: Andrew’s cousin had made us breakfast reservations at the Fox and Anchor the next morning.  When the alarm went off at 6:30, I thought there was some kind of mistake.  Yes, judging by the glimmer I spied through the window, the sun had risen and logically it must be daytime.  Logic aside, there was no reason to believe I was even living. 

At a time like that, this is what I might enjoy for breakfast.  Two slices of toast, lightly buttered.  Half a grapefruit.  A pair of sunglasses to keep out the extra light.

Here is what I received: a generous plate of fried eggs, two slices of toast covered in baked beans.  And a side dish of black pudding.  (If you’re not sure what that is, know that it’s a near relative of the aptly-named blood pudding.  And weep.)

I am nothing but a good sport.  I scraped the baked beans off my lightly buttered toast and ate the toast as cheerfully as possibly.  This left a plate that still appeared completely full.   I remember looking at that plate, and the black pudding looking back at me.  I stared it down; I was not admitting defeat. I managed to pick away at my fried eggs and baked beans.  The black pudding remained untouched.  (My victory lay in staring it down.  You didn’t expect me to eat it, did you?)

The Fox and Anchor is one of London's iconic pubs.  It serves a range of British food from scotch eggs to game pie, from mince and tatties to goose fry chips.  I'm thrilled to have eaten there and if I ever go back to London, I'd love to visit the Fox and Anchor again.  For lunch.