My Dad as God of Weird Breakfast Long Ago:
He’s too disabled to manage now, sadly, but especially when I was small, breakfast was HIS meal, and he went at it with fascinating precision, everything exactly timed with its own ritual – I’m way too slapdash and late-rising and hurried to get with this, and I miss it.
Plus he sometimes did extra-strange breakfasts on special occasions. Some of these were somewhat intricate for first thing – oh lovely breaded cod’s roe, shall I always overfry thee? – but this one is easy: Toasted Sardines on Toast…
1: Cut open ciabatta (OK we just had something ordinary and sliced when I wz a kid, and you still can – but you can get ciabatta in Somerfields now, so its ponciness index has clearly reached zero if such things bother you)
2: Grill one side till nice and brown, the other very VERY lightly.
3: Butter lightly grilled side, then spread sardines straight from can so oil gets into bread (the kind we always bought had a man in a sou’wester and oilskins on the picture on the lid, but I haven’t seen him for years)*
4: Toast till ready.
*(Also I vaguely remember that though we always CALLED them sardines, they were actually “brisling”? Is this some pre-EU thing?)