Eggs with Everything

Mood: Ravenous, hungover

Style: Casual daywear

Listening to: Ocean Colour Scene

What’s on today: 12pm – 10pm: mooch around London

After the Blood Red Shoes gig,  a lot of booze, a failed attempt at drunken shagging and a necessity to leave  bed earlier than intended, Mr P and I find ourselves craving eggs for breakfast.

We wind up at The Breakfast Club in Islington, a ramshackle little place in a cute backstreet. The place is small with mismatched furniture and curios dotted about; the clientele are young and fresh-faced, it’s a little bit hippie in there and reminds me of a place you might find in Newquay.

I order eggs royale – it’s quite expensive but hey, it’s London so what do I expect? Two of the biggest, roundest poachers greet me nestling on a muffin and a generous bed of smoked salmon with a good dollop of Hollandaise sauce. The eggs are cooked perfectly and the yolk melds into the Hollandaise to form a delicious goo – the perfect hangover cure.

If I lived in Islington, I would have breakfast here every day. It’s wonderful. Do visit.

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