Ed Miliband, I forgive you, totally understand mate. It’s not easy these days trying to get a fast-breakfast down without a whole load of confusion and bother. Today, I succumbed to unfortunate daylight robbery, nearly losing a few ivories in the process. No, I wasn’t mugged, just happened to purchase an appetising looking takeaway sandwich from a reputable coffee chain called Starbucks. After getting lost from much faffing around, my last resort for sustenance involved a premium train station establishment with sky-high prices. Ignoring the extortionate caffeine shares crisis—the drink at least palatable. It was the criminally-named ‘Ultimate All Day Breakfast Sandwich’ that soured my morning.
Flavourful eggs from free range hens, hand-cured and air dried Hickory smoked bacon, British sausages made with herbs and spices to Starbucks’ bespoke recipe all served on a rustic, stone-baked bread roll. Oh, it’s like poetry, William. Utter bullshit!
Oh where, where, where do I begin. For starters, it didn’t appear anything as pictured above, the knife-wielder missing the middle of the rustic stone by a long way, cutting at ridiculous angle leaving half the paltry filling to splurge out, a bit like your average Big Mac. Then, nearly having coronary from taking in cost, over £4 for the most important meal of the day. Paying contactless, thankfully forgot the realism of bank account closing, and then it were to be prepared, lovingly warmed and customised with juicy dollops of HP brown sauce.
No. Sodding, quickly microwaved and shoved in a bag. Complete bewilderment then strikes, I’m given a second paper bag, what’s all this? Listen, if anywhere charges ******* £4 for a breakfast sandwich, the least, the very least you could do is put the thing together. What happens if I wants to eat now, like with a Greggs offering at half the price but three times the filling? Maybe this is health and safety, not madness as the nuked roll is practically breaking the Richter scale—best left alone for half-an-hour is common sense. So, in my other, another-lost-tree goody bag, now have a world-plummeting-resources unneeded knife with a sachet of sauce and serviettes of course. The coffee, also scolding, arrives without insulation sleeve and thus dilutes holding pain from other hand. After waiting for Chernobyl to finish, finally make my own breakfast, this without knife, having graciously left for following jam customers. Still not sure why a human being cannot pour sauce from a sachet onto a sandwich, Starbucks-perfection-sauce-uniform-spread-paranoia perhaps? At this point, my body instantly transforms into Labour politician Edward Miliband. Urrrrggghhhh, arrrggghhh. Casting ‘rustic’ stone roll top-half aside, grab a fork from my office—which wasn’t provided by Shoddybucks and possibly would have been useful in current predicament if nearly dying from starvation—and attempt filling devourage. Horror ultimately strikes, these aren’t two sausages Heston, one thinks term is chipolatas, thin and short **** taste-concealed junk-herb filled pork offerings. These boys however, are better than what’s left. That picture shows, in my deluded eyes, four slices of fat bacon (and there ain’t just two chipolatas balancing that heavy roll, I tell ya). Anyway, the bacon, the combined shrivelled up slithers wouldn’t amount to half of one butcher slice, not in a million years, Gordon. Don’t get me started on the sandwich-spread scrambled-egg-looking concoction that barely covers the middle of the bread bottom.
Let’s recap, ‘Ultimate All Day Breakfast Sandwich.’ Hash brown? Mushrooms? Black pudding? Tomato? Beans, even? Actual sausages! A ******* slice of bacon you thieves!!! Bespoke recipe, please stop this now, you’re insulting the food gods.
Hunger was left to ponder with aching jaw.
For your information, below is a US version with ‘holiday’ ham, and wait for it… It’s a handful of the holidays in every bite. Yeah. 😊