The most important meal of the day…….

I know that is now considered “old hat”. In our modern world of intermittent fasting. But three things come into play when you are traveling. Breakfast is an indication of the country you are in. Breakfast is an indication of the money you spent on the hotel. If you eat breakfast well, you don’t need to worry about lunch. In Tampere north of Helsinki in Finland. I had landed in a rather nice family run hotel. All by a happy accident. I had a lovely room with a view across the city. They gave me slippers and a waffle cotton dressing gown. I never managed to sort out the lights. And the top floor of the hotel was a sauna that opened from 4 to 10 each evening. With separate men’s and women’s and a joint infra red sauna.

And to the point of this whole message from abroad: Breakfast.,And I have to point out we are starting high and going low. There was an omelette bar. There was a whole honeycomb, waiting for you to scrape it. A selection of gluten free breads and cakes. there was the yoghurt and cereal section, with toppings of dried powdered berries and seeds and a green powder that smelt like a christmas candle labeled “top of the pine trees.” There were many breads, all warm, waiting for you to slice them. Rye, seeded, crisp breads. There were different butters, salted, unsalted and smoked reindeer butter. There was Kale pesto. There were jams galore. Cloudberry, lingonberry, gooseberry. ( The reindeer bit is going to be a theme, but only in Finland…makes sense really) There were containers with mushrooms and onions ( for me) and reindeer sausages ( for others) And there was a container of the best porridge I have ever had in my life. I wrote about it when I wrote about Finland and I have a packet in my case with instructions on how to make it and it involves milk and salt and butter. In the centre of the room there was an island with a massive selection of sliced cheese, sliced meats, pickled vegetables, pickled herrings, smoked salmon, smoked eggs, and yes, reindeer.

The hotel was full of Finns, who were having a weekend break or something similar, and I noticed that most of them had bread and then piled everything on top into a vast open sandwich which they held between their two hands and engineered it brilliantly so it didn’t slide an inch. I went for courses. It’s the way I do things. I started with a tiny bowl of yoghurt with aforementioned sprinkles. then I went for the porridge with lingonberry sauce, then I had a baby omelette with mushrooms and cheese and two pots of tea. One black and one of their home made roobios. I should point out in relation to the reindeer. I did try the smoked reindeer butter on a slice of rye bread. As I pushed it around on the bread I realized it was butter with tiny pieces of smoked reindeer in it. For some reason I thought they milked the female reindeer and the butter would be made from that milk and the smoked bit.. I don’t know what I was thinking… a Lapland bar-b-que?

Anyway , I left it to one side. Eating reindeer is not for me. 10/10 The next hotel was in Helsinki. A sharp slide down to a hotel that looked like it was left over from a safe house in a John le Carre novel. The room was filled with old office furniture. The shower could only fit someone under six foot and slim of girth. The lift or elevator doors looked like te belonged in a morgue.

The breakfast was meat that looked like spam, cheese that looked like it belonged on a hamburger bun, bread that stuck to the roof of your mouth and pickles. 2/10 In Estonia. The sliced cheese and meat was becoming a visual backdrop. With lots of warm sausages and containers of flavored yoghurt.I’d give it 4/10. Latvia, we were staying at this hotel I mentioned before. Built in the seventies and a few miles out of town on the Number 1 bus line. The other guests seemed to be Russians on a mini break or a large group of young and naughty Indian men who took to running around the corridor at night in their underpants. I know. I opened my door in my white cotton nightie to remonstrate with them. they looked sheepish.

But back to breakfast. In Riga there were pancakes and fried eggs along with the regular fare. And very bad white bread that had to be toasted at least three times to make it edible. And butter in packets that were labeled “ Butter.” But you can’t fool me. I am a butter connoisseur. That butter had never met a cow. 3/10 Lithuania. The first breakfast was by the sea in Klapaieda. That was very inventive, Jams and dumplings. Egg salad, tomatoes sliced with cheese, beetroot sliced with vinegar. Lots of sausages. It probably looked better than it tasted. But I’m giving it 6/10 for the colour palette. Second breakfast was in a home stay…..whole new world. A long wooden table with drop scone style pancakes one day and a quiche style thing the next. Sliced tomatoes and cucumber from the garden.7/10

Third Lithuanian breakfast was in a hotel in the capital Vilnius. I had a fantastic view from my window. And I have to stop there. If I put porridge, cheese and a pear on my plate..they would have all tasted like wood clippings. 1/10

And lastly to Poland. In this gently tacky hotel in a town called Kalisz. Which I will be more forthcoming as to why I was there, later; the entire ( been-there-before) enterprise of sliced cheese, meats, pickles, tomatoes and bready buns with a jam filling, was lifted to the ceiling by a young woman called Emily who was making scrambled eggs to order. I will never whisk them in a bowl again. I will never let the butter fully melt again. I will eschew Jacques Pepin and Delia. I will follow young Emily hereafter. Breakfast 5/10. In conclusion. Go to Lapland for breakfast , if you happen to be passing. Skip out the Baltic States unless you happen to be staying in a lovely home in the country. Go to central Poland for scrambled eggs. But only if Emily is on duty. She gets 11/10.