I know I tend to write somewhat irreverently about English food, but rest assured that’s only because of the way it looks, feels and tastes. That said, with the FIFA World Cup about to enter its glorious knockout stages, I find it hard not to get swept up in the laddish fervor of the nation that (probably) gave us the world’s game. So for this week’s INdulge, I tucked into a plate of:
The next dish you should try in Indy
In truth, there is absolutely a place in my heart for the assorted “flavors” of the Queen’s country. As a Midwesterner, I am no stranger to the esteemed meat-and-mush genre of cuisine, after all. And over the years, no English dish has intrigued me as much as the full breakfast, which I recently chowed down on at Cheeky Bastards in Geist.
There is no exact blueprint for a “full English” — also known as a fry-up, Ulster fry or Full Monty — though the meal tends to follow a pattern of pork, eggs, toast, baked beans and veggies. Cheeky Bastards’ full English ($20.25) features two eggs to order, charred Cumberland sausage, a few scraps of back bacon, crackly hash brown triangles, sourdough toast, baked beans and grilled mushrooms and tomatoes. The Full Monty ($24) adds a puck of black pudding (aka blood sausage) and some bubble and squeak, the dish of fried mashed potatoes and cabbage named for the sounds it makes while frying in a pan.
Seldom one to exercise moderation where food is concerned, I opted for the Full Monty. The dish was a fascinating blend of the familiar and foreign, a classic egg-meat-and-potato breakfast punctuated by the tomatoes’ bright acidity and the black pudding’s distinct gaminess courtesy of the blood. Where the salty cargo straps of back bacon seemed luxurious compared to their American counterpart, the tomato-forward Heinz Beanz rang somewhat hollow without the subtle, sophisticated notes of caramel color E150 found in Bush’s version.
One thing the full English absolutely has going for it is, fittingly, its sheer heft. The Full Monty at Cheeky Bastards is a monstrous amount of food, and it’s easy to see how the meal caught on, particularly as a day-long fuel source or a morning-after Guinness neutralizer.
However, such unmitigated caloric splendor wasn’t attainable for the vast majority of English people for much of the nation’s history. For several centuries, the “English breakfast” was actually oatmeal or porridge, maybe some eggs if you were feeling frisky and flush. The proto-full English was the stuff of the aristocracy who could afford fresh meat and vegetables (and, in many cases, had someone in their employ to cook it).
One of the first written descriptions of an expansive, multi-ingredient English breakfast appears in “Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management,” an 1861 compendium of uncredited recipes and homemaking guidance by English writer and likely plagiarist Isabella Beeton. Beeton’s take on the country breakfast called for a variable assembly of bread, fruit, eggs and meats ranging from chicken and pigeons to something called “collared pig’s face” to, simply enough, “tongue.”
Over time, particularly in the Edwardian era of the early 1900s, greater economic prosperity in England made these substantial breakfasts more accessible to the average citizen. But as the popularity of the English breakfast grew, its variety shrank: Certain meats like pigeon fell out of vogue, while the U.S.-based Heinz corporation began exerting its still-firm death grip over the English palate with its tomatoey bean sludge.
The full breakfast declined somewhat in popularity over the back half of the 20th century, in part due to the time demands of such a meal and because the English public has grown increasingly skeptical toward the nutritional benefits of smashing a plate of sausage and beans on the regular. Still, the fry-up remained a staple at cafés, often available all day long.
Here in the States, the English breakfast occasionally serves as a cultural crossover at soccer bars where the football-curious Yankee can enjoy a heaping plate of sausage and beans while catching a European Premiere League game at 6 a.m.
If, like me, you find yourself charmed by the vaguely English mystique of the World Cup this summer, consider a trip to Cheeky Bastards. And do pardon my own cheekiness with regards to English cuisine, as I truly mean no harm. After all, it’s just breakfast, innit?
What: Full Monty, $24
Where: Cheeky Bastards, 11210 Fall Creek Road, Fishers, (317) 288-9739, cbindy.com
In case that’s not your thing: You likely won’t find as robust a selection of British cuisine anywhere else around town. Cheeky Bastards’ menu spans from suppertime favorites like bangers and mash ($18.95), shepherd’s pie ($22.95) and fish and chips ($30) to fully dressed jacket potatoes ($10 to $15) and all manner of incredibly English-sounding delicacies like sausage rolls ($8.95), crumpets ($8.95) and, of course, the raisin and custard dessert known as spotted dick ($11.25).
Contact dining reporter Bradley Hohulin at bhohulin@indystar.com. You can follow him on Instagram @BradleyHohulin and stay up to date with Indy dining news by signing up for the Indylicious newsletter.
This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: INdulge: For World Cup, English breakfast is next dish to try in Indy
Reporting by Bradley Hohulin, Indianapolis Star / Indianapolis Star
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
By Bradley Hohulin, Indianapolis Star | USA TODAY Network
