In 2014 it was 67. Even allowing for lie-ins and hangovers, over-sleeps or the odd mix up re. serving times, that is quite a lot of hotel breakfasts. I am now something of an expert.
In Broadstairs, the first meal of the day is a hit and miss affair. Sometimes I set forth to the Dalby Café in Cliftonville to partake of their excellent toast and perfectly-judged fried eggs while my son eats his body weight in sausages and bacon.
On other days I come over all health-conscious and whiz up bananas and strawberries and frozen spinach (quite frankly when you spend that much on the whizzy thing you feel ill if you don’t).
But most of the time, I get on with other stuff until I’m distracted by the sound of my stomach rumbling and realise it’s 11.30 am and I’d better have some chocolate.
Put me in a hotel and it’s all change. Whether it is an innate urge to get my money’s worth or some Pavlovian response to waking up in a different bed, who knows, but I open one eye and I’m starving. “The calories!” cries a colleague, looking aghast when I head for the fried end of the buffet selection. “Won’t you put on weight?”
Not if I can help it. For those of you planning hotel stays this summer may I offer my three-point breakfast strategy plan. (Giving me an opportunity to remind you that I am a long-term authority on the perils of “Writer’s Bottom” and the author of a ground-breaking weight-loss book, on which, frankly my dears, I could do with some sales.) For yes, the catered morning repast offers a very real chance of consuming 2,000 calories before 10am and there are three ways in which you can approach this opportunity:
1) With abandon! Eat everything in sight. Have strawberries and cereal, porridge and honey, the full cooked ensemble of eggs, bacon, sausage, black pudding, baked beans (if you can stomach the latter two – I’d prefer to munch on my leg), hash browns, toast, and croissants.
Then use the stairs not the lift, walk everywhere briskly and don’t eat again till you have a tiny dinner (you will get away with it).
And while you’re enjoying every glorious mouthful, watch the thin girl – yes, that one with the sanctimonious expression who’s clearly as miserable as sin, spooning fat free yoghurt over her kiwi fruit.
Ask yourself: do you want to be like that?
2) With discipline. Eat almost nothing and dine out on your sense of virtue.
Sit piously sipping your green tea and nibbling on a blueberry (while adopting a similar facial arrangement to the one you witnessed above) or your black coffee with a morsel of cheese.
Feel yourself bathed in self-righteousness and peruse the other guests.
See that fat family in the corner? The bloke with the stomach, who can barely squeeze behind the table, the annoying kids going back for more pastries? See how enormous his wife is? Then look at her plate. Allow yourself a small sniff. That’s why.
3) With balance. Remember that just because it’s there you don’t have to eat it ALL.
The bits you don’t eat, you’ll have forgotten by this evening.
If you do eat lots, don’t have lunch.
Or you can do what I did on this particular occasion and carry out such dramatic adjustments to the annoying toast machine, that far from turning out pale flaccid slices it actually catches fire.
An event that will amuse the Brits, throw the Germans and Americans into a state of panic and leave you feeling morally unable to breach the bread area for a second time.
If you ditch the carbs (not hard when they’re blackened and smoking) you’ll burn fat all day. It’s my pleasure. Please don’t mention it.
Read the original at: http://www.thanetgazette.co.uk/Plain-Jane-Eating-way-hotel-breakfasts/story-26722548-detail/story.html#ixzz3dmyH53H0
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