over the weekend, saturday, we had second breakfast —

oh no, wait. third breakfast. at two in the afternoon.

this was after first breakfast of tea and toast, and yoghurt and berries, at home.

and after second breakfast at the orange grove markets; i had been on a long-overdue mission to procure some gympie butter, and all of a sudden, there we were, watching the ponies, with a cherry danish for the kid, and a bacon, egg and chimichurri roll for me (the chorizo guy is capitalising on the extremely long queue in front of the honey-cured bacon and egg roll guy), and a raspberry-orange juice in-between.

yes. so, third breakfast was had, because we were barreling down oxford street after partaking of the giddy merry-go-round that is the hope street markets, and the kid wanted scrambled eggs. but where o where does one find scrambled eggs in that section of oxford street, between the uppity paddington end, and the trashy darlinghurst end? is there somewhere not too trendy, or too gay, or too derelict? no, really, i want to know!

well. because i saw the sign for the $13 vegetarian breakfast outside BD’s foodhall, i can at least recommend this place to you. even though BD is short for “body development”, and one of the guys behind the counter had very large muscles squeezed into a very small black t-shirt. i’d been in here once, a few years ago, to buy a bottle of water. it’s the shopfront for a catering outfit, and the counters are packed with large bowls of bright salads, and a vast array of baked things and sandwiches.

but we wanted breakfast. we split it, the kid and i — she had the eggs, and i had the mushrooms and hashbrown, and there was more than enough toast, avocado and baked beans to go around. and you know what? when you least expect it, possibly the best mushrooms ever show up on your plate. an enormous tumble of whole mushrooms, larger than your regular button ones, cooked dark and slightly caramelised, with crunchy bits and a hint of balsamic vinegar. they must have been roasted, they had such a rich, smoky flavour.

but my cup of tea, poured from a large teapot in which a single teabag floated forlornly, was no match for the rather wonderful ring i found at the candy hand stand at the hope street markets. look at it! wonderful!

possibly the best little plastic thing ever to be stuck onto a ring and sold for 10 bucks, my precioussss.