For those of you that know me, you know that breakfast is my favourite meal. It doesn't matter whether it is a bowl of cold cereal with morning sun warmed strawberries and cream or a big plate of eggs benedict from my local breakfast joint on a Sunday. Sometimes I even eat breakfast for dinner.
But no place do I love breakfast more than when I'm in Europe. I'm in love with the buffet breakfasts served at the hotels I stay at when I'm on business. The variety of foods served range from cold cuts, cheese, and pickles to petit fours. The only constant for me no matter London, Milan, Moscow, Paris or Rome is I always have a pot tea with milk and one lump for breakfast. I love the little pots of tea made with loose tea. Even the bags of tea taste better when I'm sipping a cup in Europe.
In London, the K&K George serves breakfast in a lovely sun filled room and the scrambled eggs, broiled mushrooms and tomatoes, rasher bacon and scones are to die for. In Moscow, it is the smoked fish and caviar at the Golden Ring and the pots of dark Russian tea. In Rome, it is the fruit and meats served with crusty bread at the Hotel Delle Nazioni.
The only place I don't partake of the hotel breakfast is in Paris. I always stay at the same hotel, Ville Des Artistes. It is located about 2o steps from the Metro stop, Vavin and the famed Le Dome and La Coupole restaurant. But for me, these restaurants don't hold a candle to the pot of tea and croissant I get for petit dejeuner at the bakery on the corner.
I sit at a stool facing the street the school kids walk down on their way to morning classes, read Le Monde and sip my tea while planning my day.