Eventually Fat T.'s parents, and their visiting friend, arrived and we hustled over to the
Black Horse Pub for lunch. The last time I ate at the Black Horse I
had their burger, so this time I thought I'd go in an entirely different direction and try their empanadas. I also ordered a virgin Bloody Mary, which had a nice kick and, I'm pretty sure, the olives had capers in them!
The pub offers traditional British breakfasts, which I didn't really feel the need to eat...but the idea of breakfast tomatoes did appeal to me. I was surprised at how thinly sliced the tomatoes were, as I usually think of a fried British tomato as being pretty much one whole half of the thing. A mistaken impression?
Fat T.'s father had the meal to the left. It is a full English breakfast holding nothing back. It's in full English-y mode. I'm pretty sure the beans started talking about putting wellies in the boot and throwing fetes without rubbish bins. But maybe that didn't happen. Who's to say really?
Thanks to Fat T.'s parents for the meal. It was nice to see them in a post-wedding setting.
The pub offers traditional British breakfasts, which I didn't really feel the need to eat...but the idea of breakfast tomatoes did appeal to me. I was surprised at how thinly sliced the tomatoes were, as I usually think of a fried British tomato as being pretty much one whole half of the thing. A mistaken impression?
Fat T.'s father had the meal to the left. It is a full English breakfast holding nothing back. It's in full English-y mode. I'm pretty sure the beans started talking about putting wellies in the boot and throwing fetes without rubbish bins. But maybe that didn't happen. Who's to say really?
Thanks to Fat T.'s parents for the meal. It was nice to see them in a post-wedding setting.
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