Sunday Morning. Breakfast. There is a new cafe to try in Sydney every week. I thought about trying a new cafe but I needed to pick one and then drive there and then there wouldn’t be any parking and I’d have to park on the street and walk to the cafe and in Sydney you never know.
So I walked to the local cafe instead. On the way, there was a spinning bird mobile thing on a balcony.
The local cafe had cutlery on the table in a pot next to the sugar.
I thought about getting bacon and eggs. But eggs give me a pain in the guts and I’m sometimes vegan on Sunday. There were some other things on the menu. Hotcakes too but it was too early on Sunday for something sweet.
I ordered porridge. I asked for it with soy milk instead of milk from a cow. They asked if I wanted it dairy-free because it also had crème fraîche in it (whatever that is). I said yes because I didn’t think crème fraîche was vegan. Not if it was dairy.
The porridge was too hot but I didn’t say anything because it would cool down and besides, I’m not Goldilocks.
There was too much porridge. I don’t know why cafe’s give such big servings nowadays. If I had a time machine I could have taken my leftovers to Russia and fed Napoleon’s troops. Not that I’m all hot for Napoleon or anything but I’m just saying I could have if I wanted to because I was full and there was still lots of porridge left. I don’t think Napoleon’s troops would have minded much that it was vegan porridge. Not if they were very hungry.
The porridge had barley and seeds and blueberries in it. I couldn’t finish those either.
The food was OK.
The Food was OK 