Coconut bread, lemon curd cream cheese, rhubarb 7.5
Raclette and spinach French toast, bacon, watercress 9-
Smoked haddock and leek rarebit, poached eggs, rocket 8.5
Parmesan grits, girolles, boar sausage 9-
Corn & morcilla fritters, avocado, paprika crème fraiche 9-
Salt beef bubble, poached eggs, spinach, hollandaise 9-
Jalapeno corn bread, fried eggs, black beans, guindilla pepper 8.5
Baked eggs, tomato pepper ragout, Greek yoghurt, toast 7.5
- with chorizo sausage 9.5
Poached eggs, aubergine puree, yoghurt, sumac, parsley, toast 8.5
- with soutsouki sausage 9-
Caravan Fry: Eggs, field mushrooms, tomato compote, bacon 9-
- with sourdough or grain toast
Imaginative, exciting, and unusual in the best sense of the word, certainly for a 'Bill's-esque' restaurant. And Bills is precisely the reference point, for it was there that I first started to appreciate a good brunch.
The Salt-beef, while being trendy, was divine. A crispy-fried ball of Shredded meat & bubble & squeak, waiting to be mashed amorously together with perfect poached egg, HOMEMADE Hollandaise, and lightly wilted spinach. It was The Dark Knight to eggs Benedicts' Batman Begins - a sequel unlikely to ever be bettered.
The place was booming, packed to the industrial rafters. The breakfast Martini could (should) have been better, but the coffee was perfect. The service wasn't ideal - art students who did things painfully slowly, and without much of a smile - but it mattered not one bit, the menu meant I would leave desperate to return.
Sadly, Bills has since become a monstrous, nationwide machine, and any creativity they once oozed is long gone.
Here in Brighton, I await the heir to their throne, and keep my fingers crossed that one day soon, something as inventive as Caravan comes to town.