Breakfast of champions

The headline is misleading, as the pic is of a card for the Comfort Diner, which is at 214 East 45th Street, Manhattan. When I first visited New York, I ate breakfast in a diner, and of course I went to Tiffany, with it's beauty, its ostentatious aspects, its stunning levels of first class customer service. Oh, and its complete lack of a dining space. Yup, you can't get breakfast at Tiffany's, as per the Hepburn/Peppard movie. Unless it referred going round Tiffany's house, but she sang 'I think we're alone now', so it'd be a quiet affair. Multiple inter-textual references in this one.

Breakfast. The forgotten art in Scotland, as we grab nutri-grain bars and eschew cereals, grab a coffee and ignore going to work on an egg (a bonus point if you know which 20th century literary figure coined that phrase while working in advertising). A roll n skwerr phonetic sausage is the culinary summit. Not like New York, where it's an education to stand in line in a diner and listen to the vast array of choices. The equivalents in Scotland are, let's just say less vast. When did you last have a proper breakfast?

At teacher training college, they tried to tell us that feedback was 'the breakfast of champions'. We were bright young things and opined that feedback comes at the end of the loop, so should be the midnight snack of champions, or in a traditional sense, the Ovaltine of champions. My point about how remiss we are in the breakfast-taking stakes is that breakfast is in fact the breakfast of champions. Eat breakfast, be a champion. The slogan needs work. In order for the concept to fully work though, it needs a Manhattan diner. Or see you at Tiffany's for breakfast.