Euston Station, London

I ended up frequenting four pubs on my last day in Edinburgh before getting on the sleeper train down to London. I bunked in and waited until we pulled into Euston.

I arrived with no confirmed plans on where I was going, if I was going to be picked up, where I was to head to, and I didn't even know if my phone would ever work in these United Kingdoms. It turns out when you need it to, and I settled down for this grease mess before the next leg of city trains to the very South West of the city.

This sad looking breakfast sandwich would be my first meal in London and my worst meal. So, it did get better. For the curious, that slab of pink on the left is suppose to be bacon and that bit on the right is sliced up sausage links with some scrambled egg sitting on a bed of catsup. Travel food takes advantage of those too tired and hungry to care, but c'mon people, standards must be set somewhere.

Comments

Monty’s Bakehouse wrap, Air Canada

I’d rate this wrap as strange. Its packaging created expectations of a more appetizing experience, which it was not. After a vastly superior egg salad sandwich from London Heathrow, I could not greet this airplane freebie with serious interest, but at least it was hot, and at least I could review it for this blog. Steaming contents were oozy and largely undistinguishable, but suggested some kind of red pepper or sundried tomato origins.

Melt Room, London

I'm usually such a purist when it comes to the grilled cheese. Melted cheese, butter, good bread, maybe a bit of onion. Maybe. Pickle on the side. Why deviate from what is solidly a delicious combination? The Melt Room looked like a mall kiosk with its shiny plastic decor, but I was brought there by a friend who was craving the lamb shoulder melt she read about in the paper, and I opted for the BBQ chicken, even though I hummed and hawed about the original. I should have just had the original. We shared half of each other's choices and I was put off by the romaine lettuce inside of her grilled cheese sandwich as well as the bland chicken in mine. The sourdough was rather good though and heavily buttered, but the fillings just really did not work. Located deep in Soho, I don't see how this place can last long, but then again, I have never understood British cuisine.

Haloum Grille, Depanneur Le Pick Up, Montreal

A friend and I agreed the personality of the sandwich changes with each person who prepares it, and today we felt something was a little less than parfait with our Haloum Grille. Folks at Le Pick Up seemed stressed . The longest wait ever, and our lunches sat around too long. Temperature of the cheese is important to experiencing haloumi’s firm the texture and the release of its saltiness, and I prefer when it’s grilled directly before entering the sandwich. Creamy spicy slaw of red cabbage, carrot, and kale soothes the major crust burn associated with the crispy multigrain toast. Ideally it’s the bread that should be soft and the haloumi that gets to shine as the crispy grilled champ that it is. Nevertheless, we stayed for hours at the back picnic tables, chatted with the servers, overheard some drama about the evening closing procedure, broke a dish, and spilled a coffee. A good day.

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