Zigfrid, Hoxton Square
11 Hoxton Square
020 7613 1988
by Blake Pudding
After a night on the port with one of my floozies I took a call from Ed Benedict inviting me to breakfast at Zigfrid. Only an idiot would turn down the opportunity to breakfast with Ed. On my way, between bouts of nausea, I tried to picture what this breakfast might be like. I imagined good quality ingredients, haphazard cookery and off-hand service from pretty, studenty, Estonian waitresses. Was I right? Up to a point.
I ordered the full breakfast which was inexplicably called a 'Rock 'n' Roll'. On being asked by Mr Benedict about a vegetarian option, our waitress (thin, blandly pretty, full of the sad longings) replied that it exists but that no one had seen it - as if it was some kind of chimera that lurked in the bowels of the building. Mr Benedict then asked for his eggs to be well done, egg philistine that he is. The breakfasts arrived and they had solidified my eggs too!! I was speechless with rage but also starving so I manfully bit my tongue and tucked in.
The sausage was a quality item, bursting with delicious piggy goodness. The bacon was good too if a little under done for my tastes. The mushrooms were truly excellent and the eggs, despite their solidity, were poached properly. I started to warm to Zigfrid. Even the potato wedges which I had initially pooh-poohed as a starch too far were delicious. As my hangover subsided and my breakfast went down my mood changed to one of quiet contentment and by the end of the meal I swear I saw our waitress smile.