All of this before the main event: pork in various ways alongside traditional accompaniments. In vast receptacles, often steel domes with their little condensation-covered windows. I enjoy gazing at endless sausages, curls of bacon, overcooked scrambled eggs and triangles of hash browns. Pools of beans too with ladles outstretched. And tomatoes, mushrooms, even “breakfast potatoes” — one of America’s finest inventions — from time-to-time. Elsewhere, there might be cold hams and cheeses, fruit platters, pastries. The choice is one offered for all.
Is the end of the hotel breakfast buffet near? Not on my watch
