A meaty encounter

One of the great joys of my weekend, nay, any day, but weekend is when I get to actually indulge this joy, is brunch. It is a holistic experience. The lazy and slow start to the day, the cup of coffee to start, the food... perhaps with a book to read, or the paper, or even a friend to chat with. My requirements with this wonderful ritual are few, but perhaps, particular.

I like to have a nice environment - somewhere small and cosy, preferably a little left of centre. I also like table service - queuing at a counter dispels any form of relaxation for me. I like the music to not be intrusive and the presence of screaming children at a minimum. And then we can get to the menu and the food on offer. I tend to prefer a simple menu. Don't bring me any of your fancy, gourmet, "inspired" menus. I want good quality, plentiful, delicious Breakfast/Brunch fare.

And this is where the problem is arising in cafes these days.

There seems to be a move amongst the newest wave of eclectic cafes to removing one ingredient from the menu which I believe, for me, defines Brunch. This item is Bacon. Religious grievances aside, bacon is quintessentially Brunch. The one legacy of the pig may one day its contribution of heart valves to human transplant, but for now, it is bacon. That magic, salty meat is manna to one's heart and soul. It eases the pain of a hangover, and cures all manner of emotional ailments.

So why why why is it now becoming so loathesome to restauranters of late? More and more I am striking cafes from my list of eating posts due to the lack of bacon on the menu. I beseech the cafes in my area, consider the crimes against gastronomy that you are committing. Please return our piggy friend to the pages of your menu, and then I shall return to your establishments. Until then, Babe and I might have to stay home!