Breakfast is a notoriously difficult meal to serve with a flourish.

I've known Nicholas Parsons for a fairly long time and his geniune pleasures are in rubber tubes, metal clips

Breakfast is a notoriously difficult meal to serve with a flourish.

In moments of considerable strain, I tend to take to bread-and-butter pudding. There is something about the blandness of soggy bread, the crispness of the golden outer crust and the unadulterated pleasure of a lightly set custard that makes the world seem a better place to live.

Wine buffs write and talk as though the food and wine will be in your mouth at the same time, that one is there to be poured over the other. This is bullshit. Gustatory enjoyment comes from food and wine and cigars of your liking. So far no one has said that a Monte Cristo is the only cigar to smoke after Armagnac, Romeo and Juliet after Calvados ... but the time may yet come.

I find it hard to say, because when I was there it seemed to be shut.

To barbecue is a way of life rather than a desirable method of cooking.