Tuesday 18 March 2014

Scrambled Egg Burritos

One Saturday afternoon, after a long walk with Herbert around Alexandra Park, I decided to make burritos. Simple, delicious and kind of nutritious.

It really doesn't have to be more pretentious than this; tortilla bread filled with scrambled eggs, mixed leaves, red onion, yoghurt, grated cheese and salsa topped with black pepper.























Enjoy.

Celebrations in Carluccio's

It was no ordinary Sunday. It was the first day of sunshine after the big storm, Herbert was about one month old and it was Valentine's Day weekend. Me, Herbert and Jon decided to find a place that served Eggs florentine until late afternoon, a dish I had been craving for a lifetime, well, at least nine months. After a little walk through Castlefield we found it on the breakfast menu in Carluccio's, and luckily they were serving breakfast all day.























We ordered a cup of goodness each while Herbert was asleep in the buggy, which fitted well beside our table for four.

Then our food was served. Poached eggs and spinach topped with hollandaise on toasted Italian bread (£7.65). Oh, I was in heaven. I don't think it was that much more magnificent than any other Eggs florentine I've had, but I had longed for it for so long. Soft egg yolks really are life.























Jon's dish; crepes. Warm thin pancakes with honey, yoghurt and berries (£4.95). He wasn't as excited as me, but it was still pretty good for a Sunday breakfast.























As soon as we started eating Herbert woke up, and Jon entertained him while I scoffed my eggs.

Overall it was great. Carluccio's in Spinningfields has a nice (and baby-friendly) atmosphere. It's on the edge of being somewhat pricey for serving good but not outstanding food. But you know what you'll get, and there are no hidden surprises, which I think some people find comforting. On other occasions the service has been a little so-and-so, but this bright afternoon there was nothing to complain about.

So no, this was no ordinary Sunday: It was pretty close to a perfect one.