Amongst my (very extensive!) collection of haute cuisine cookery books (none of them as authoritative as the one you’re reading of course) I have found that some authors tend to overdo it by including recipes for "Social Occasion" breakfasts.  It has always been my opinion that "Social Occasion" breakfasts are for the insecure type of hostess who feels a need to make herself look more important than she really is.  The name Delia Wheelwright springs to mind.  Two storey mock Tudor semi-detached at the corner of Oakdale Avenue.  They’ve just added a games room above their garage.  She telephoned me one morning to announce their plans for a month’s Caribbean holiday -- right in the middle of breakfast!  Breakfast means nothing to her unless it’s a "Social Occasion".  Which is what I told my Richard once I’d hung up my private pearl-white slimline telephone with last number redial and one-touch facility.  I said, ‘Brush your hair, Richard.  Polish your shoes.  We’re going into town.’  Richard sat there, staring in the direction of his breakfast toast as it disappeared towards the kitchen sink.  Well, it was past time for clearing away the breakfast things anyway.  There were travel brochures to be obtained!  The QE2 and the Orient Express.  That sort of thing.  No, breakfast should never be a "Social Occasion".  Breakfast, I always think, is that time of day when the family sits down together companionably and enjoys one another’s company calmly and quietly.  In short, breakfast is a time for starting the day off right with a Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast.
 

The Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast.

As the Lady of the House, it is imperative that I look well at all times.  It goes without saying that I must watch my figure.  And so I always like to start the day off with a very light breakfast.  Richard has his own health needs and so he always eats something else.  Here is an example of what I mean (you can do this for yourselves at home):
 
 

Now I know you’ll want some instruction as, Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast though it is, at The Bucket Residence, no breakfast is ever really normal.  We’ve already established that your kitchen must be of the highest calibre as far as its décor and table accessories.  Yes, you should spare no expense in outfitting your kitchen or the family harmony one likes to enjoy at breakfast will suffer as a result.  Why even our little compact kitchenette at our weekend place in the country (Marston Hall; Grade II-listed mansion) has been fitted out with all high quality laminated units (more on this later -- See Chapter Ten: MOMENTS MISCELLANEOUS AND MUSICAL under the heading The Impromptu Midnight Snack) Of course it goes without saying that you’ll want to use your everyday china and cutlery for your Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast for the family.  (Save your best everyday china and cutlery for “Special Occasion” breakfasts, which I shall address later on.)
 

Getting It All Done At Once.

It’s important, when sitting down together as a family for a Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast, that everything be ready at the same time.  Otherwise, you will all not only  be eating different Normal Everyday Fare Breakfasts (perfectly acceptable; it’s what Richard and I do) but you’ll be eating them separately (which defeats the whole purpose of sitting down companionably together as a family for a Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast.)  So.  I shall tell you the steps you must take – in order – such that when you call out to your hubby whilst he’s shaving, ‘Breakfast on the table Richard!!’ it, in fact, will be.
 

The Tea.

First:  The Tea.  Tea, as you will soon learn, if you haven’t already, is the main staple in British households.  Tea is appropriate for every occasion.  There is no happiness too great that it cannot be celebrated properly with cups of tea; and no problem in life that cannot be made better by putting the kettle on.  Rest assured, you can never drink too much tea.  Please turn to Chapter Five:  TEAand see how to make it properly – like I do.  And then come back here and we’ll continue with your Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast instruction.
 

The Grapefruit Half.

Once the tea is under way, you may remove a grapefruit (carefully!) from the nicely balanced fruit pyramid decorating your kitchen work surface.  Roll the grapefruit (gently!) on your cutting board once around its perimeter.  This releases the juice inside, making all that lovely Vitamin C instantly available.  Next, place the grapefruit squarely in the centre of your cutting board and then, from your knife rack which is ready to hand, take a well-sharpened knife (have your hubby sharpen your knives regularly each week; I find Saturday mornings to be a good time for this important task) and slice through the circumference of the grapefruit neatly.  You now have two halves of a grapefruit.  Put cling film across the surface of one of them and store it in your refrigerator for tomorrow’s Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast.  Of course, if this is tomorrow already and you produced two halves of a grapefruit yesterday, then you’re ahead of the game!  But be aware: if you've no need to produce a grapefruit half (because you've already done it yesterday) then today's breakfast is apt to be ready rather more early than usual and you’ll want to keep an eye on the kettle lest it boil dry before you can get to it.

Once you’ve got your grapefruit half in hand, you may commence the sectioning procedure.

[N.B.  Do not despair if your grapefruit halves are not of equal size.  With a little practise, they will be.  And if you’re the only one eating a grapefruit half at your Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast, as I am, nobody’ll be the wiser anyway.]

Now.  Holding your grapefruit half with your left hand (Keep your fingers away from the cut surface please; this is not a book on First Aid!) take the knife in your right hand and carefully carve an outline around each section.  If you’re left handed instead of right-handed like I am, you may wish to reverse the procedure.  Once your grapefruit half is sectioned nicely, you’ll want to place it in a special little footed glass dish that is grapefruit-size.  Put this dish on a 7-inch plate (Don’t forget the doily!) and place it on the table in front of the chair where you will be sitting.  I normally like to face the window but I sometimes allow Richard that privilege, particularly if he’s got a strenuous day ahead.
 

The Toast.

Toast is toast.  You’ve all eaten it.  You all know what it is.  And you’ve all made it.  So there’s no need to go into it here.  But a tiny word of advice, if I may:  You’ll want to have on hand only the freshest bread for making toast.  I send my Richard out daily to the Wholesome Bakery for a loaf of their finest grained white bread.  If you don’t use a whole loaf in one day, you can use the excess to make wonderful puddings and things (We’ll address these in subsequent chapters).  Or feed it to the birds.  Or, if you happen to have any unfortunate relatives, they sometimes like stale bread.  It goes without saying that your toast is best displayed in a silver toast rack.  And accompanied by a stick of sweet butter on a special butter dish in your everyday china pattern (no mis-matched china please!) and a little cut-glass dish of marmalade.  I never eat marmalade of course.  But Richard becomes obstreperous if there’s no marmalade on the breakfast table.
 

The Announcement.

Now is the moment the whole family has been waiting for since they got up:  The Announcement.  At this critical juncture in the preparation of the Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast with my grapefruit half sectioned and waiting on its doily and the tea made (You’ve consulted Chapter Five: TEA about this, remember?) and the toast standing at attention like little soldiers in their rack, and the marmalade on the table, as well as the milk and sugar (for The Tea; and for a light dusting on your grapefruit half and for your hubby’s cereal), I call out (loudly enough to be heard over running water in the bathroom) 'Breakfast on the table, Richard!'  It isn’t – quite.  But by the time he gets his shirt and tie on, it will be.
 

The Exclusive European High-Fibre Breakfast Cereal.

My Richard is a dear, thoughtful husband.  But he tends to be a creature of habit.  It comes from having no imagination.  But fortunately, he has me.  I feel it my duty to introduce Richard to new and exciting ways of living.  And a good place to start is with the first meal of the day, which  in most cases, as I hope you all know by now is:  The Normal Everyday Fare Breakfast.  Which is made decidedly less normal if one’s hubby finds his cereal bowl filled with an Exclusive European High-Fibre Breakfast Cereal.  Richard so enjoys his Exclusive European High-Fibre Breakfast Cereal!  Admittedly, he was a bit slow in adapting to it. (What else is new?)

    I had just sat myself down and was pouring the tea when I espied Richard playing with his cereal.  ‘What’s this?’ he asked, the corners of his mouth beginning to turn up in an unmannerly smirk.  I wasn’t surprised.  He’d been making difficulties from the moment we woke up that morning.  He’d had no appreciation of the social dilemma I found myself in – The Douglas Chater!  Chater’s Building Supplies.  The Barker-Finches at Number 23 had him at their barbecue.  And she couldn’t stop telling everybody.  I cannot abide people who run around making a meal out of their little social triumphs.  The Douglas Chater at their barbecue!  ‘And what did he taste like?’ Richard asked.  Richard will insist upon having his little joke at my expense.  Anyway, I simply ignored his silliness and addressed the situation at hand.  ‘Richard,’ I explained, ‘it’s an Exclusive European High-Fibre Breakfast Cereal, dear.’  He said, ‘Well it looks like it comes from The Douglas Chater – this is a building material if ever I saw one!’  He laughed. But I remained the epitome of grace and decorum.  ‘Eat it, Richard’ I said.  Richard ate it.  Later on, when Elizabeth came over for coffee, I was called to the telephone and I heard Richard out in the kitchen, telling her how much he’d enjoyed his Exclusive European High-Fibre Breakfast Cereal that morning.  It’s a favourite of the Dutch Royal Family; there’s a crest on the packet.  It’s so much nicer than eating boring old cornflakes and grapenuts all the time.
 

The Perfect Full English Breakfast (for those “Special Occasions”)

There are certain times in the life of the thoughtful hostess when she likes cooking something a little “special” for breakfast; something a bit out of the ordinary; something “celebratory” as it were.  The perfect breakfast for a time like this is The Perfect Full English Breakfast.  I love cooking The Perfect Full English Breakfast for my hubby on our “Special Day” every year – our wedding anniversary.  It’s my way of thanking him for his faithful service.  And, too, I do love watching my Richard enjoying his breakfast just at that moment when our Postman arrives and delivers my hubby’s special anniversary present to me.  I can’t think of a more romantic encounter than this.

    Of course, even in the best-regulated families there are hiccups every once in a while and I’m afraid The Buckets are no exception.  But, unlike most families, we take it all in our stride.  I’ll never forget the year of the “Alarm System”.  We began celebrating our anniversary in our usual romantic way:  There I was in the kitchen with my apron on and dear Richard was sitting at the breakfast table, knife and fork at the ready, giving me one of his quizzical little smiles as he so often does.  I expect he was feeling all asea that morning -- I’d allowed him to face the window for this special occasion.  I was all set to commence cooking The Perfect Full English Breakfast and had just bent down to retrieve my frying pan from the cupboard when I heard my Postman arriving!  Naturally, I rushed to the door at once to take receipt of my hubby’s anniversary present – only to find my Postman had nothing for me but a piece of junk mail!  I couldn’t believe it.  Obviously, my present had gone missing in the depths of the sorting office.  It’s so typical of our Postman to let me down at a time like that.  But – as it turned out – Richard had planned an altogether different – and better! – present for me that day.

    When I returned to the kitchen, my dear husband had decided he would make The Perfect Full English Breakfast for me.  It wasn’t what you’d call “perfect” though it was all right, if you like a lot of well-done toast.  But I can hardly fault Richard for his cooking.  He’s never needed to do it for himself; after all, he is married to me, the author of a high-class cook book, arguably the last word on British Cookery.  Besides, his wonderful present of an Alarm System more than made up for his lack of cooking skills that day.  It has a dusky pink box just like the one we saw on a recent visit to a stately home; and it sounds the QE2 Siren.  What more could any woman want than this for her anniversary?  I have the most thoughtful husband in the world.  You see, we’d had recent burglaries in The Avenue and Richard knows how tempting my valuable objets d’art would be to a professional thief.  And I’d die if anything happened to Sheridan’s pearl button collection.  Fortunately, we remained unburgled till our Alarm System could be installed.  I guess our neighbours know now who it is has the most important things worth taking round here.

     Here is my recipe for The Perfect Full English Breakfast that I almost cooked for Richard on our wedding anniversary, had I not been interrupted by my Postman, who had nothing important for me anyway:
 
 

Heat a tablespoon of vegetable oil to a medium heat in your frying pan.  Add the sausages and cook for 10-15 minutes, turning occasionally.  After about 7 minutes of cooking the sausages, put the bacon and tomatoes (skin side down) under your grill and cook them for 3 minutes.  Turn the bacon over but leave the tomatoes as they are, and cook for another 3 minutes, checking occasionally that the tomatoes do not burn.  (If they look like they are, remove them.)  Place the sausages, bacon, and tomatoes in your oven in a roasting tin, after their respective cooking times have elapsed.  (This is for keeping them warm whilst you cook all the rest.)  Increase the heat of your frying pan to high.  Add a tablespoon of oil and fry the mushrooms briskly for 2 minutes; remove and keep them warm in the oven along with the sausages, bacon, and tomatoes.  Add two more tablespoons of oil to your frying pan, allow it to heat up and then add the bread and fry it for a minute on each side.  Remove the bread and keep it warm in the oven along with the sausages, bacon, tomatoes, and mushrooms.  (Are you beginning to see how this works?  It’s a bit like playing at dominoes.)  The eggs are the last of the ingredients to be cooked to achieve The Perfect Full English Breakfast; if you cook them earlier they will go tough and rubbery in the oven.  So be sure and cook the eggs last.  Reduce your frying pan heat to medium.  Add the eggs one at a time being careful not to break the yolks.  When the whites are set spoon some of the fat over the yolks to help the tops of the yolks cook and set. After 2-3 minutes the eggs will be ready, depending on if you like a really runny yolk or just a fairly runny one.  If you prefer your yolk fully set allow 4 minutes.  (Richard likes his yolk fairly runny but I like mine fully set.  Sheridan doesn’t like eggs at all so I never make The Perfect Full English Breakfast when Sheridan’s home as it only upsets him.)  Serve the eggs, fried bread, mushrooms, sausage, bacon, and tomatoes onto warm plates, relax and enjoy The Perfect Full English Breakfast.

[N.B.  This is an excellent meal for starting the day when you’ve got an educational jaunt planned as you won’t be hungry again till night time.  So you can skip lunch altogether and spend the whole day searching for Iron Age Remains – or if you're in the mood for a little culture, you can visit a Stately Home.]
 

Footnote:  In Chapter One: SETTING THE STAGE, you learnt that your home should include "Nothing Continental".  However, if you find yourself  waiting to board the QE2 in Copenhagen at breakfast time, then it's all right to waive your house rule and indulge yourself in a Continental Breakfast.  That's what they do in Sweden and it's better, when you're abroad on holiday,  if you try and fit in.  It sets an example for the other passengers.
 

There.  Now I think you've had enough Breakfast.  Let's move you along to Chapter Three: Coffee