Breakfast Hairy Bikers' Best of British

You know, we believe that Britain has the best food in the world.

Not only can we boast fantastic ingredients...

Whoa, whoa! There we go. Look at them!

Outstanding food producers...

Oh, look at that!

And innovative chefs...

But we also have an amazing food history.

-Oh, brilliant!

-Oh, wow!

Don't eat them like that. You'll break your teeth.

SHE LAUGHS

Now, during this series, we're going to be taking you on a journey

into our culinary past.

Everything's ready, so let's get cracking.

We'll explore its revealing stories...

BOTH: Wow!

And meet the heroes that keep our food heritage alive.

It's a miracle what comes out of the oven!

'And, of course, be cooking up a load of dishes

'that reveal our foodie evolution.'

Look at that! That's a proper British treat.

We have...a taste...of history.

-Quite simply...

-BOTH: The best of British!

MOTORBIKE ENGINES REVVING

Today's show is all about the mighty British breakfast.

It's almost our national dish,

and each corner of Britain has its own twists and variations

when it comes to the meal that starts your day.

You've got the full English, with rashers of bacon, eggs, sausage...

Or the Ulster fry, with the soda bread and puddings.

Or the Welsh speciality, laverbread, made up of cockles and seaweed.

And in Scotland, we have porridge.

We're going to be celebrating the meal that gets the nation out to work in the morning.

'We'll be tucking into the best breakfasts you can get,

'including a southern Indian favourite

'being served up in Leicester.'

We'll learn from a great British producer

about what makes traditional bacon taste so good.

And we'll be finding out how the egg cracked

in the battle against cereal for our breakfast tables.

Plus we'll be cooking up some classic weekend breakfast treats.

For many of us, a good old fry-up is the pride of breakfast heritage.

But eating well in the morning is a relatively recent phenomenon.

Back in Georgian times,

a large breakfast was something purely for the nobility,

who ate artery-busting hams, cheeses, pies,

and washed it all down with booze.

It was the Victorians

who made the cooked breakfast a British institution.

As prosperity grew along with the Empire,

cooked meats became affordable for all.

They were the kings of cooked breakfasts,

and it wasn't just about bacon and eggs.

Smoked fish was highly rated,

and even baked beans made an appearance on the menu.

Great!

The Empire also brought back recipes

that changed the way we thought about breakfast.

Our first recipe in the Best Of British kitchen

is a tribute to that Victorian age - kedgeree.

It's a spicy rice dish of smoked haddock and eggs,

livened up with peas and parsley,

guaranteed to kick-start your day.

Two of our favourite things must be breakfast and curry.

The two combined make kedgeree,

and it must be one of the great British breakfasts of all time!

And we love it cos it's spicy and it's gorgeous. That's brilliant.

It is one of those odd Anglo-Indian dishes

that came out of the British occupation of India.

One of the tales is, it came in with the Scottish regiments

going to India. The Scots love their smoked haddock.

The Indians had a rice dish for breakfast called khichri,

and that's where the name kedgeree comes from.

And then the fish went into this.

-Breakfast in the days of the Raj.

-Whatever! It's really good.

-It certainly is.

-And this is smoked haddock.

This is the undyed smoked haddock.

I have to admit a sneaking liking for the bright-yellow stuff!

As a kid, I used to think, "It looks so much more appetising

than that dull white stuff. Mam, can we have the yellow one?"

Never mind. This is much better for you, and super-tasty.

Yes. Painted fish is just wrong.

We're going to poach the haddock in a large frying pan

filled with exactly 500 millilitres of water.

And cook it for about eight minutes,

until it's flaky and gorgeous.

And we use that water for cooking the rice,

so all that fishy, lovely, smoky flavour goes into the rice.

And just to add a little bit more, we put a couple of bayleaves in.

Lovely!

'You know, kedgeree reminds me of being a kid.

'My dad was in the Navy, and he couldn't get enough of it.'

We used to eat kedgeree quite a lot in our house,

cos it was, like, part of a naval tradition, kedgeree,

and my dad used to love it, so there was always kedgeree on the go.

'After the fish has been poached for eight minutes,

'strain it in a colander, but don't forget to keep the water.'

That's the beautiful liquor, isn't it, that?

That's what we want to keep.

-Oh!

-It does smell lovely, doesn't it?

-It does. Fabulous.

-Use that as a holding pin.

And then we simply put the rice in here with this liquid,

and if we've done our sums right, this should be the precise amount

necessary for cooking the given quantity of rice.

'If you cook 200 grams of Basmati rice for around eight minutes

'with the lid on, and leave it to stand for another two,

'you should find that all the water's been absorbed,

'and the rice is nice and fluffy.'

'Right. Now we can get on with the rest of the ingredients.

'First we need to chop an onion and cook it in 40 grams of butter

'and a tablespoon of sunflower oil, until it's nice and soft.'

And while Dave's doing that,

I'm going to hard-boil four medium-sized eggs.

Nice thing about kedgeree, it does hold quite well.

You can put some foil on it, put it in a warm oven,

and just leave it to moulder away until everybody's down for breakfast.

And then it's just this lovely one-pot wonder.

I like kedgeree with tea. Coffee's not really right with it.

No. You can't have it with coffee. It's wrong.

Cook those onions slowly, but we do want a little bit of colour on them.

I'd flake the fish now if I were you.

Well, if I were you, so would I!

Now, this should be perfect. Yes, it is. Absolutely beautiful.

And look, it just flakes away from the skin.

Oh! Let's have a bit.

Look at that! That is good fish.

-Absolutely gorgeous.

-Lovely, isn't it?

-Yeah.

'If there's one herb that works well with fish, it's parsley.

'We're using roughly three tablespoons

'of flat-leaf parsley, but curly-leaf works just as well.'

-What's your favourite breakfast, Si?

-Anything with poached eggs, really.

I must say, I really do like kedgeree,

and I eat it at every available opportunity.

So often when we've been in hotels,

you order kedgeree, and it's rubbish.

I don't know how you can make a mess of it.

Kedgeree's a dish on its own. It's not a receptacle for leftover fish

and stale bits and bobs. A lot of hotels see it like that,

-and it's wrong.

-What's yours?

I do love good scrambled eggs, but I've given up with that with hotels.

I hate the breakfast ethos of the buffet.

It should be shot. How can you keep scrambled eggs under a heat lamp?

-You can't.

-It's a brick.

Scrambled eggs should be soft and unctuous,

and it's so wrong.

And the bacon sits there, poaching in its own misery.

-That's not breakfast.

-No, it's not.

But there's such a good culture for breakfast in our country.

You know, Kingy, the English breakfast

is one of the great treasures. Even Somerset Maugham said,

"To eat well in England, you need to eat breakfast three times a day,"

and by God, he's right! We've got it right.

Rant over, better get on with some cooking.

Cut that rice off, and just leave that to steam in its own heat.

We need to give the kedgeree that spicy kick.

This is ordinary curry powder,

just simple, plain, medium-strength curry powder.

And we've got about... oh, a tablespoon of this, heaped.

Those Indian and British flavours combined

give kedgeree a truly comforting taste.

That's the great thing about where we live, in the UK.

You can eat your way around the world.

'Peel the hardboiled eggs and slice them into quarters.'

Today we don't eat dishes like this for brekkie very often,

but in the Victorian age,

people really went to town on their morning meal.

As the Victorians used to say, "You breakfast like a king,

you lunch like a queen. Tea like a prince,

-and supper like a pauper."

-Perfect.

Try telling ourselves that next time it's half past ten and we want a kebab.

-THEY LAUGH

-Right! Let's build the kedgeree!

The rice goes in. It's lovely and fluffy,

and this rice is going to colour up beautifully

when we stir through the curry powder.

I'm trying to break the rice up as little as possible,

because I don't want it to turn to porridge or become a risotto.

So I'm kind of folding it in.

Now, next is this beautiful, beautiful smoked haddock.

-It's like mother-of-pearl, isn't it?

-It is absolutely beautiful.

Beautiful fish. Now, try and maintain the flakes,

and just fold them into that beautiful rice.

-Oh, look at that, man.

-We can put the peas in now.

Yeah, absolutely. Look at that, man. The colours!

That'll wake you up, whatever!

But whatever the breakfast, you've got to have eggs, haven't you?

-It'd be wrong not to.

-So just fold in the eggs.

If the yolks separate from the bits of white, don't worry.

In my opinion, there's a fundamental flaw with eggs.

There's too much white -

for eating purposes. Maybe not for producing chickens.

-There we are.

-Oh, lovely!

Add the juice of half a lemon, lots of black pepper...

When you've got eggs, you've got to have pepper.

And then add the parsley.

Fold that over again.

-Shall we try for seasoning?

-Yes.

There's loads of salt in the smoked haddock,

so take care with the salt.

Wow! I don't think that needs anything. Do you?

-No.

-It's perfect.

-I think that's really good.

I remember what my dad used to do. He'd dot the top with butter,

and it was just epic!

Right.

A few little nubbins of butter.

This is where it's like a biryani in a pan.

Yeah. Love it.

In the Navy, that'd sit in the officers' mess

under a covered... under a covered platter,

and the butter would melt. It'd go down into your kedgeree,

and heaven on a plate would be served.

For the final flourish of the dish,

we'll add about three tablespoons of double cream.

It'll just release all those lovely curry flavours off the rice.

-Nice and gently.

-Nice and easy.

You're beginning to look beautiful.

Now, that, to me, is brekkers.

That is, isn't it? Yeah.

Curry, nourishment, best of British. Have you got a spoon?

I've got... Yes! I think that, from henceforth,

should be known as The Kedgeree Spoon.

Oh...

Oh, man!

Just try and get a little eggy on the top.

-Look at that!

-Oh!

Oh, yes.

Oh, lovely.

That is brill! Dead spicy.

-Oh...

-It ain't half hot, Mum.

# Why do you whisper, green grass?

# Why tell the trees what they say? #

I love those winter mornings on a weekend,

and when you get up, it's freezing but it's crisp,

and the sky's light.

And then this. Sat down - oh! - at your breakfast table.

Oh, I love it!

Good old-fashioned breakfasts were quite perky,

quite spicy, and this again, it wakes your palate up.

And it's got that effect of... You can't stop eating it, can you?

-Help me!

-HE LAUGHS

Great...British...breakfast.

Aye!

Since the early 1900s,

the cooked breakfast had been the standard morning meal in Britain.

But, in the post-war era, this was challenged by an innovation

from across the Atlantic - breakfast cereal.

Cornflakes were an invention of our American cousins

that had come from the dietary reformist movement

in the late 1800s, led by people like John Kellogg.

The idea of healthy and unhealthy food,

rather than taste, was right at the heart of this new type of breakfast.

And it was aimed squarely at eliminating the fry-up

from our tables.

Because it didn't need cooking, cereal was a lot more convenient,

and as more women joined the workplace,

the American invader started to take over.

But there was one part of the British breakfast

that wasn't going to give up without a fight.

Eggs had been heavily rationed during the Second World War,

but in the 1950s, they started to make a comeback.

-What sort of things do you cook?

-Well, eggs and bacon.

-Do you ever cook meals?

-Yes. Bacon and eggs.

Oh! Eggs and bacon and bacon and eggs.

I've got just the thing for you.

I'm going to show you how to make a super American breakfast dish

-called eggs with top hats.

-Top hats?

-Yes, top hats.

And they're jolly good for camping too, boys.

It sounds terrific. Can I help you?

In 1955, just a year after rationing ended,

this cookery show enticed youngsters into the cool American way

to have an egg for breakfast.

This does look funny. Is it all right?

But even creative ways to cut up your toast

weren't enough to hold back the tidal wave of breakfast cereal.

-It's going to be lovely, isn't it?

-I hope so!

In the 1960s, a war began between egg producers

and the cereal industry

for the rumbling breakfast tummies of Britain.

-So I shall just have to...

-BOTH: Go to work on an egg!

-Yes.

HE LAUGHS

While the egg men threw big names into the fight,

cereal companies struck back with free toys...

..giveaway guitars,

and huge competitions that just got bigger and bigger,

and slicker marketing won the day.

Slowly but surely the cooked breakfast,

which had defined the morning meal for so long,

was replaced by cereal. As a much quicker choice for busy families,

there was just no stopping it.

What a goal!

But despite the convenience of cereal,

breakfast itself was becoming less popular.

With less and less time on their hands,

three quarters of all adults regularly missed breakfast

by the millennium. And you know what? You're missing out.

Ironically, you know, if you like cooked breakfasts,

Britain has a lot to choose from.

As well as our traditional favourites,

there are now a whole range of delicious breakfasts

that have arrived in Britain from overseas.

We're off to Leicester to find a breakfast

which has made it all the way from South India,

and, quite frankly, we can't wait to get stuck in.

Curry for breakfast! Oh, I love it!

HE LAUGHS

The city is home to just over 300,000 people.

And a large proportion of them are of Indian descent.

Jaimon Thomas runs the Kayal restaurant.

He was raised in Kerala, and is going to show us

a typical southern Indian breakfast.

But he isn't just crazy about curry.

He's a biker, too!

-Hello!

-Hi, there!

-Very nice to meet you!

-Hi.

I thought I was coming to a restaurant, not a garage.

That's our Royal Enfield, which we keep in the restaurant.

-It's a 1953 Meteor.

-Oh, wow!

-That's a 700cc version, isn't it?

-It is. It's a dual one.

-Really, really rare. Beautiful!

-Do you love it?

Quite unique, because Enfield started its life in the Midlands.

Yes. It's a bit of history, isn't it?

Britain has gifted India the Royal Enfield in the 1960s,

and now we are here to serve you the curry.

But it's not just the bikes we're here for.

-It's your special breakfast.

-Of course.

-We can go to the kitchen. The chefs are waiting for you.

-Fantastic!

-Come in.

-Let's go.

Leicester attracted skilled workers and entrepreneurs from India

during the '50s and '60s,

finding work with the local textile and hosiery industries.

In the 1970s, the city also became home

to Indian refugees that had been forced out of Uganda by Idi Amin.

On the breakfast menu for many families

with southern-Indian background are dosas, a kind of crepe,

and idlis, which is basically a steamed rice cake.

These are a couple of classic brekkie dishes

-made from lentils and rice.

-We've been to Kerala ourselves,

and southern-Indian food is something we absolutely adore.

First we're going to find out how to make idlis.

We had this every morning for breakfast for six weeks.

We've both come back with these and dosas, tried to make them,

tried over the years, and we've failed miserably.

-So this is a treat for us!

-It's quite simple.

-As far as we know, it's very simple.

-You say it's simple,

but it's driven us mad for years.

-We will make it simple for you today.

-Excellent!

'What makes it simple is one of these - a commercial grinder.'

This is a fantastic bit of kit. It's where we've been going wrong.

We haven't got one of these. Every home needs one.

Well, it does now. Look at this. It's brilliant!

'To make the dough, the lentils and rice are ground together

'with water and salt.'

And how do you know when it's done?

You can see the dough, nice and smooth.

'It's got to be ground for about 25 minutes.'

So before the age of electricity,

how would this be done?

It's the same thing. It's got a bigger stone than this,

but people used it with a string.

Still there are some tea shops in Kerala -

you can see them - they still use that.

'It's absolutely fascinating.

'Once the dough's been ground up,

'it needs to ferment for about 12 hours

'to become light and airy.'

It really is. There's lots of air bubbles in that, isn't there?

It's really creamy, as well.

The fermented dough goes into a special tray

that can be dropped now into a steamer.

My idlis, when I made them, it was just liquid!

It wasn't like that. That's like beaten egg white.

'I know what you're thinking. What if you don't have an idli tray?

'Well, in the old days, they were made by pouring the dough

'into a cloth stretched over a pan of hot water.'

Oh, I've made a mess here. I've got the sack before I've got my job!

THEY LAUGH

Do you know, what I'm looking forward to

is eating these straight out the steamer.

It's going to be like when you get bread out the oven and eat it fresh.

'Once the trays are all stacked, they go into the steamer

'for ten minutes.'

You're using a pressure cooker, but just using it as a steamer.

Yes. We are not pressure-cooking it.

With the idlis steaming, next up are the dosas.

Dosa is something which is the very best,

and essential for South Indians.

There is no breakfast without dosa, basically.

-Now we're going to make Masala dosa.

-Yes!

But before we do that, we have to make a filling.

Masala dosas have a spicy vegetable filling.

'To make the filling, the chef needs to start

'by frying mustard seed and lentils.'

Smelling beautiful, isn't it? It's toasty.

'Then he adds ginger, green chillies and the veg.'

-This is a smashing way to get a few of your five a day!

-Isn't it?

I can't think of a better one, mate, I tell you!

One of the main spices in the filling is turmeric,

which they grind from the root.

Turmeric, or haldi.

-Haldi!

-THEY LAUGH

The look of that and the smell, the look and smell of the kitchen,

it takes me back to my Keralan breakfasts.

'The final ingredient is some roughly mashed potato.'

It's like a posh bubble and squeak, isn't it?

That's the stuffing. That's the easy bit.

What about the dosas?

'Dosas have got the same ingredients as idlis,

'but with added fenugreek, and they're made on a hot plate

'rather like crepes.'

When I try to do this, I get to this point

and then that's it. It comes off like jelly,

and it's bits and pieces.

'Chef Hajik makes it look easy, but now it's our turn.'

Right! This is it. This is the moment of truth.

-That was brilliant. You first.

-Oh, man!

-Go on. Take to the hot plate, Kingy.

-Right!

He's doing good.

I've made my first dosa!

-Wow! That's really good!

-THEY APPLAUD

Yes! Thank you, Hajik. Thank you.

That was... It's fabulous. What a lovely thing to do!

'Kingy's a bit of a natural! No pressure, then.'

-I've got a lot to live up to now!

-Come on.

-Right.

It's not looking good, is it? Very brown.

Yes!

Oops! Oh, no!

-Nice one!

-Just hide it underneath.

It's not a cracker. My filling's bursting.

-I got a few holes. But it's all right.

-Mega!

So, Jaimon, tell us the truth. Do you have this every morning?

Every day, but I don't make it. My wife does it for me.

That's the secret.

You've got a restaurant and a team of chefs.

And also we do a little dosa,

which normally we have it for breakfast.

'By now the idlis are ready.'

Oh, look at those!

-So light, aren't they?

-They are great.

'Both the idlis and the dosas are served

'with a series of traditional southern-Indian dips.'

'What a feast!'

Now we've got the most authentic South Indian breakfast ready,

we've got some customers waiting for you,

-so shall we just go to the restaurant?

-Yeah!

-Yes.

'One of our absolute favourite breakfasts.'

These are lovely. Texture's great, isn't it?

It's brilliant.

'If you want a really good breakfast in Britain,

'you've got to search for it.'

And if you're lucky enough to find something like this,

there's no better start to your day.

'Like any good breakfast, whether dosas or a full English,

'the absolute key is quality ingredients.'

And if you're going to opt for a fry-up,

there's one thing you just can't do without.

Aye, I know what you mean, mate! Some good old-fashioned bacon.

And we want a proper taste - Wiltshire slow-cured,

not the watery stuff you get from the supermarket!

At one time the good stuff almost disappeared off the menu altogether,

and much of what you see today isn't actually the real deal.

You can wander round your supermarkets now

and see allegedly Wiltshire bacon,

but I think it should be Wiltshire bacon in inverted commas,

because it's the name

rather than the actual essence that they use.

Best Of British food hero Roger Keen

has lived and worked on his pig farm in Wiltshire for 70 years.

20 years ago he started to produce his own bacon,

cured in the traditional Wiltshire way.

Roger makes his bacon using a slow-cure process,

and is the only man still producing it this way in Wiltshire.

It's a method that was first introduced just up the road from his farm,

and it revolutionised how bacon was made in Britain.

And it's all thanks to one particular local family.

During the 1700s, the canny Harris family set up a small butchers'

in the Calne area,

taking advantage of its position on the pig-droving route of the day.

A lot of pigs were brought over from Ireland in those days,

and walked all the way from the Bristol Docks

up to London to the Smithfield markets,

and this enterprising butcher, this Mr Harris,

seemed to light on the idea

that not always are animals as fit as they might be.

There'd be an odd one or two stragglers,

and he would go along and bag a few cheap pigs, I suppose,

from the drovers that were moving the pigs,

and he started curing them to produce bacon.

In 1847, George Harris went to America

to set up a business. He was unsuccessful,

but while he was there, he picked up a rather special idea.

What he brought back with him was, in fact, a cure,

an American cure, as it turned out,

that had used brine, as opposed to the older cures

that were predominant in this country at that time,

which would be what we would now call the dry cures,

where you rubbed vast quantities of salt into the pig meat

in order to preserve it,

so that it could be put, without refrigeration,

into store, and sail round the world.

So two years it might be on a ship. It didn't go off.

It was barely edible,

it was so salty, so hard and so dry,

so this milder cure, the Wiltshire cure, the brine cure,

became, I suppose you could say, a tremendous success story

for the Harris family, who were at that time based in Calne,

and that became the home of Wiltshire cure.

There was a bacon factory in virtually every town,

but in the '60s and the '70s, they closed down one by one,

unable to compete with Danish suppliers.

Traditional slow-cured bacon was almost lost forever.

Not the bacon! I think I need a tissue.

Aye, I know. It was bad news for Roger too,

as his pigs supplied the factories.

As well as losing proper bacon in their breakfast,

the Keen family were losing their livelihood.

Here!

So rather than let his farm go down the plughole as well,

Roger started a curing business of his own -

well, to save the bacon!

When the last local factory closed,

Roger went to see what equipment he could buy.

Instead, he ended up hiring the manager

and buying a very special ingredient.

We actually bought a gallon of brine

from the old Royal Wilts factory at Chippenham.

It's what you call a living brine.

There are living bacteria, a bit like cheesemakers

or the winemakers, all the artisan crafts.

It imparts something to the bacon.

One of the essential parts is keeping the temperature

at an ideal five degrees.

And you want it slightly... almost like a wine colour.

And maybe it's a hundred years old. I don't know, really, you know.

But there's a little bit of a mystique and magic in it, you know.

After being cured for three or four days,

it's drained and stacked,

and a week later, it's turned from pork into Wiltshire-cured bacon.

But if you like it smoked, you've got to wait a little bit longer.

After hanging above smouldering beechwood chippings

for a couple of days, the bacon takes on a deep golden colour,

ready for slicing.

And I would suggest probably there's nobody else in the country

that actually does still produce Wiltshire-cured bacon

to the traditional Wiltshire recipe.

There's no denying Roger's bacon is pretty blooming special.

One bloke said he reckons his children were conceived

because of my bacon. I never really quite worked that one out.

We've also had a lady come back and say,

"I've just bought a pack of bacon from you,"

and I think, "Oh, good gosh, what's wrong now?"

She says, "I've been a vegetarian for 20 years."

"My family's going to kill me when I get home!"

So thanks to Roger, the only man in Wiltshire

still using the traditional method of curing bacon,

the area's historic contribution to the full English breakfast lives on.

I'd never eat anything else.

HE LAUGHS

Who'd have thought something as traditional as Wiltshire bacon

had an American influence?

Now, there have been many American imports onto these fair shores -

some good, some bad. But this is a belter, isn't it?

Aye. Eggs Benedict! The core of the idea came from America,

but I believe in my heart of hearts

that we English make the best eggs Benedict.

We have the best ham. We also have English muffins.

Our eggs Benedict is an extravagant combination

of muffins with a thick slice of ham, topped by a poached egg

and smothered in hollandaise sauce.

We're also going to knock up the posh version, eggs royale,

which replaces the ham with smoked salmon.

-It's Marilyn Monroe on a plate!

-Oh, it is.

It is. It's fantastic. I'm going to do the poached eggs.

I'm going to show you how to make poached eggs

the way that works, and Kingy will show you how to make hollandaise

without the aid of a parachute, without lumps

-or any kind of stress whatsoever.

-Yes, I will.

'And I'm going to poach the eggs in a high-sided frying pan

'to make sure they're going to be ready at the same time

'as everything else.'

You kind of pre-cook them, so you can do a dozen poached eggs

and just bring them to heat at the table,

so if you have six people coming round for breakfast,

there's no reason they can't all have poached eggs at the same time.

Now, while Dave's waiting for his water to boil,

a key element in hollandaise sauce is the vinegar.

We're going to take some white-wine vinegar

and half a shallot.

Chop it nice and fine,

and we're going to put that in a pan

with four tablespoons of white-wine vinegar,

ten peppercorns and a bayleaf.

'The story goes that eggs Benedict originated in New York,

'but there are two different versions of the tale.'

The first one is that eggs Benedict were created

by a Mr Lemuel "Lemmy" Benedict,

in 1894 at the Waldorf Astoria.

One day, suffering from a hangover, he wandered in.

He asked for toast, two poached eggs, some bacon

and a jug of hollandaise sauce to pour on the top.

Now, the other story is, at a deli called Delmonico's,

there was Mr and Mrs LeGrand Benedict,

and they went in there and invented the dish.

One thing that is true - in America,

every April the 16th is National Eggs Benedict day!

And that's great about the Americans, because, any available opportunity,

they'll celebrate and get flags out.

Ladies and gentlemen, the top tip of all tips

when making poached eggs - to ensure that your poached eggs

never go to ectoplasm or look like a Doctor Who monster,

you put the egg in its shell in the water

for precisely 20 seconds.

This kind of just sets them a teeny, teeny bit.

-And it's true. It works.

-The other trick with poached eggs is,

whenever you can, use really fresh eggs.

While we're waiting for those 20 seconds,

what happens is, the shallots, the bayleaf and the ten peppercorns

goes into that four tablespoons of vinegar.

We reduce it by half. Now, just keep an eye on this,

because it'll reduce quicker than you think.

Now, see that water? There's a gentle bubble.

Add to this a little drop of white-wine vinegar.

White-wine vinegar helps the eggs stay together,

but sometimes the chef in your hotel or your B&B,

he'll slap in loads of malt vinegar.

You don't know whether you're having a poached egg or fish and chips!

'To help pour the eggs into the water,

'break them into a bowl first.'

Create a whirlpool, gently, and float the egg in.

Keep the whirlpool going, and those strands all wrap around the egg.

They need about two minutes to cook. And when they're done,

plunge them straight into some ice-cold water.

This stops the cooking process.

We'll drain these on kitchen roll so they dry,

and they'll hold for two or three hours.

All we have to do when we're ready to serve them,

be it with bacon or an eggs Benedict then,

is to plunge them into boiling water for one minute,

and you have the most perfectly cooked, reliable poached eggs.

You can have a dozen at once in the pan,

so six people have two eggs each, bang-bang-bang, done.

That's how a restaurant should do it.

Ours are going to wait until the hollandaise sauce is done.

For the hollandaise sauce, we're going to gently melt

225 grams of butter in a pan.

'By now the vinegar should have reduced, so strain it into a bowl.'

All of that shallot flavour, the onion flavour,

the peppercorns and the bayleaf will have gone into that.

To start making the sauce,

we're going to whisk three egg yolks in a bain-marie.

Place a bowl over a saucepan of hot water so it's heated by the steam.

OK, so there's a little bit of heat but not too much,

and the water's hot, but it's not simmering or boiling.

You've got to watch out you don't scramble the eggs

before the magic's happened.

Be careful not to let the water touch the bowl directly.

And just a little bit of salt, and then we start to whisk.

You'll see the eggs change colour, to a really light...

-It's going already, mate.

-It is, isn't it?

And they'll thicken slightly as you whisk, these egg yolks. Look.

There we go. I mean, it's a little bit labour-intensive,

but it's worth it.

Little pinch of sugar, and then our spiced vinegar.

Now, keep whisking...

..as you drop it in.

Now, again give it a good whisk.

'Now slowly add the melted butter to the egg yolks,

'whisking all the time, so that they emulsify,

'and the sauce doesn't separate.'

It is going nice and mayonnaisey, isn't it?

Yeah. Lovely and creamy and buttery.

That's beautiful. I think the time has come

-for me to get my muffins on, Mr K.

-I think you're right, dude.

I love that consistency. That's going to cling

like Chris Bonington to the Matterhorn.

There we go. One lovely hollandaise sauce.

-Ohhh! May I?

-You may.

-Lush, isn't it?

-It's like...

if food was a velvet blanket that caressed your naked form,

it would be hollandaise sauce. Do you know what I mean?

It's like... Ahhhh!

Right. Muffins.

It's nearly ready!

We just need to slap a generous amount of butter onto the muffins,

and reheat the eggs in hot water for a minute.

Pop that back... Now, look at that poached egg.

A perfect poacher.

Next up, you have to make the hard choice between toppings.

Is it going to be traditional ham, or royale, the smoked salmon?

Take your pick, really, but that's good British boiled ham,

fresh eggs, smoked salmon -

who does it better than the Scots? - and the English muffin.

So, whether it was Lemuel Benedict

or Mr and Mrs LeGrand Benedict,

we've taken eggs Benedict and made them British over the years.

It's ours, and I think it's one of the best.

That hollandaise is immaculate, Kingy.

Just a few chives, and don't worry about them scattering on the plate.

Just a little sprinkling of black pepper,

and just an odd, teensy sea salt.

It's got to be one of the most perfect breakfasts.

You know the Americans. I mean, they're overpaid,

they're over here, but as long as they bring their eggs Benedict with them, they can stop.

-Oh, aye.

-Are you salmon or ham?

Well, I'll go ham, cos I know you're quite partial to salmon.

I'm quite democratic when it comes to these. I'll eat the lot.

HE LAUGHS Go on, man. You can have first dibs.

Whoa!

Look at that.

You see? Look at that egg. It's perfect.

Mmm!

Oh, now...

Oh, yes. Look at that!

And do you know what, Si? The chives give a lot to this, don't they?

The chives go so well with the hollandaise.

They just give it a little bit of savoury undertone.

Mmm!

That's the perfect eggs Benedict,

perfect muffins,

perfect kind of ham,

perfect salmon.

-Hollandaise is just right.

-Very, very good.

Thank you, America!

Well, thanks for the idea, but we do it better.

It may have been relegated to a hasty snack on the way to work,

but Britain has a fine breakfast heritage.

Whether it's home-grown delights,

spicy Victorian favourites or borrowed from abroad...

..British breakfasts are among the very best in the world.

Visit...

..to discover some amazing facts about the history of food.

And to find out how to cook up tonight's recipes.

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