It feels wrong to call this a doughnut. Doughnuts are what people panic-buy at Tesco on their last day at a job. Stodgy bread-circles. This is a creamburger from the pudding Gods. You get one scoop of vanilla ice cream plus whipped cream, chocolate sauce and caramel sauce – all wedged between Bird’s freshly made doughnut of the day.
The American Dream in a sandwich. The one that inspires all the others. The one that killed Elvis. After generations of stoic and selfless service riding the school bus in dingy satchels, it’s now been anointed as a cultured dessert. Two slabs of peanut butter-flavoured ice cream, with cherry jam in the middle.
The dour Yorkshire pudding leaves its usual safe space alongside the carrots and gravy and, like Sam Allardyce flailing his arms around in Marbella, discovers pure hedonism. It’s loaded with vanilla and chocolate ice cream, honeycomb, cookie crumbs, chocolate sauce and a berry coulis.
French toast, often haunted by its bland “eggy bread” alter ego, here proves the daring feats it’s capable of. This dish goes on one hell of a voyage: the French toast is stuffed with blueberries and banana, dipped in cream and cornflakes, fried, and then just when it can’t take any more, just when it’s pleading for mercy, bang, in comes the syrup.
An international festival of light
Dinner in a decommissioned 1967 underground carriage
Half-price brunch and a HUGE fried chicken burger