The global breakfast
Kate Underwood
Dubbed the most important meal of the day, I’ve always been intrigued by the variety of the global breakfast. Waking up somewhere new, the first thing you eat often provides a direct experience of the culture that surrounds you.
Imagine replacing that bowl of Weetbix with milk, kiwifruit, and yoghurt with mornings in Vietnam, where businessmen and school children sit perched on roadside stalls, slurping bowls of steaming hot Phở Bò (beef noodle soup) that’s been bubbling in giant pots overnight. Deeply umami, the soup is infused with charred ginger and star anise and full of nourishing beef bones, rice noodles, fragrant herbs like coriander and Vietnamese mint, and a smattering of chilli – all eaten before 9am, in temperatures above 30 degrees.
Instead of silky flat whites, in Vietnam, I’ve enjoyed intense, dark roasted ‘drip’ brews served hot or over ice, with condensed milk mixed in. Absurdly delicious!
In France, I witnessed locals wandering to pick up fresh croissants from the boulangeries and dunking them into their milky espresso. I can’t say I’ve dunked my sourdough toast with peanut butter into my morning filter coffee – but maybe I should?
The Chinese congee is a fascinating and comforting morning dish where you’re forced to think of porridge beyond oats with brown sugar and cream. This savoury rice porridge, made with water or stock, can be a little intimidating, but it’s simple in flavour. With toppings, you can make it your own – soy sauce for seasoning, thin slices of fresh ginger, spring onions, and chilli are common, and sometimes the 100-year-old preserved egg.
Pan con tomate (tomato bread) is a beloved Spanish breakfast that I’ve been drooling over as I enviously watch friends gallivanting around Barcelona. It’s essentially grated tomato on ciabatta-style toast, rubbed with raw garlic, covered in juicy tomatoes, and drenched in olive oil and salt – one to save for the summer months.
Even the time we eat breakfast varies across the world. In Japan, not much is open before 10am – including the coffee shops(!). When you wake early from jetlag, your only option is to head straight to the 7-11 or any of the small supermarkets open 24 hours. You choose from chilled cabinets of plastic-wrapped snacks, including the notorious egg sandwiches filled generously with mayo on fluffy cloud-like white bread. A food memory I often crave.
Both Turkish and Danish breakfast spreads are wholesome and varied; think olives, tomatoes, cucumber, pide bread, honey, and tahini. The Danes opt for cured meat, hard cheese, boiled eggs, radishes, and pickles, all artfully arranged alongside dark rye bread. In fact, the new daytime darling – Estelle on Southwark Street, has a beautiful rendition that I am eager to eat. When I need some edible escapism but can’t get overseas, I start with breakfast and pretend for a moment I’m someplace else.