You know those Sunday mornings when it’s a bit rainy, a bit grey, a bit dull and you’re mooching around the house in your pj’s knowing you want to do something or go somewhere but you don’t know what or where?
Such a Sunday morning as this was occurring when a random phone-call from the gorgeous C, 2 stops down on the Jubilee line resulted in changing out of said pj’s, trotting 2 more stops down said tube line and enjoying a really quite marvellous brunch at Canteen on Baker Street and the first taste of what I would say are arguably the best Eggs Benedict in the big smoke.
Okay okay, please calm down if you’ve just spat your coffee out and are now chuntering away indignantly at me that in fact the best Eggs Benedict in London are actually at x, y and z…I did say ‘arguably’. Not many others had braved the kind of steady drizzle that only the promise of very good breakfast can induce me out into so the place was nicely warm and welcoming and not frantically rushed and steamy.
Two ladies. Two plates of Mr. Benedict’s best oeufs. Two mugs of tea. Two sighs of contentment. Many yummy noises.
Muffins perfectly toasted. If you’ve ever fished blackened, smoking muffin halves out of the toaster, you’ll know this is sometimes actually trickier than it sounds.
Expertly poached eggs with yolks sunny enough to clear away the clouds outside.
Bacon just the right side of crispy and a generous serving of Hollandaise that complemented but never drowned everything underneath it.
The superb food was nicely balanced with service that was efficient, professional and appropriate – waiters of London, some of you need a refresher course in knowing when to approach and when to come back later but here? Spot on.
Other places will absolutely give you a good, maybe excellent, sometimes awesome breakfast and I don’t deny that there are a good many brunch venues in London that have nestled their way into my heart and set up camp but when someone mentions Eggs Benedict, my mind always goes back to Canteen and generally my feet always follow.