[A breakfast repost while I’m moving houses]
Moving to a new country where you don’t speak the language is hard, especially when the new country is Scotland, and the language is one I thought I’d been speaking since birth. Take yesterday’s conversation with the dog sitter. She and her husband are incredibly nice people who probably think I’m recovering from some traumatic brain injury because I have to take several moments to mentally translate everything they say to me.
Me: “We’re back.”
Her: “That’s you!Yer’wee dug haes hud her tea enna wee. I’ll sorter kitten’sheel bee-sa chuffed yeer-bin.”
Me: “…”
(Note for those who don’t speak Glaswegian: no kittens, tea, or bins were harmed in this statement. Actual translation: “You’re all set. Your little dog has had her dinner and piddle. I’ll gather her things and she’ll be delighted you’re back.”) Don’t hate me, but I must admit I was hoping to hear the dog had a little piddle (wee wee) but no such luck.
At Village Coffee a few months ago, talk turned to an even more fundamental difference than local accents: what constitutes an acceptable morning meal. Friends who had been to my hometown, Seattle, were appalled at the shocking fare the Americans there consider breakfast. “People get up in the morning and have yoghurt with some muesli over the top. And coffee,” said one traveller. Heads shook in disbelief before another pounded a final nail into that coffin. “There weren’t even any beans.”
So here’s your international quiz. Can you figure out which countries start their day with the following fare?

Hint: who else would have a stiff enough upper lip to manage beans AND blood pudding before even getting a cuppa?
How do you start your day?
I have breakfast around eleven o clock, and then it’s just toast! I hate to think what that says about me!
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I think it says you are extremely civilized…
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Wow, thanks for that! I don’t think anyone has ever called me that before, I wonder why?
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Moving is an ordeal at best. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten through a move without hurting my back. Good luck and take care, Barb. Hugs.
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Well, every time I read it I wonder if Blood Pudding tastes as appaling as it sounds… but apart from that, it looks yummy!
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Yesterday, in Glasgow, I had what was called a Brooklyn Breakfast – eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns (poor substitute for blood/black pudding imo) and ginormous pancakes with butter and maple syrup. I couldn’t finish but I did make a pretty good stab at it!
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Wait…you were in Glasgow for breakfast–American breakfast–and you didn’t call me?
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I thought you were still on Arran until next week. The number of times you flit has me thoroughly confused!
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Breakfast . . .hum. Chai. Now Sunday brunch!!! Scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes, mushroom, onions, sausage, light rye toast, and proper tea . . .made and served by someone else! (and cleaned up)
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I usually have a soy Latte and a muffin. My boys, both bodybuilders are horrified. They say “You don’t eat enough protein!!!” They have egg white/egg omelets, with oatmeal, or sometimes a protein shake with oatmeal/egg whites and Ovaltine. I think if I ate that in the morning, I would be nauseated the rest of the day – hmmm…might be a good weight loss program. Eat something so gross in the morning, you can’t stand eating the rest of the day.
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After looking at the photos…can I just have yogurt and muesli? And coffee?
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But at least we aren’t Germans and all those quasi Germans who have liver wurst, white sausages and cheese – cheese for pity’s sake – for breakfast. It just isn’t right
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I’m with “Jena” – we’re on the same schedule and liking the same menu! I’ll take a chance on the international quiz: (1) England (or Germany) (2) USA (3) Russia (4) NoClue (you’ve heard of that country, right?) (5) Ireland (6) Russia … so maybe # 3 was….France? oh, I have to admit…I live in NoClue!!
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There’s nothing like blood pudding to start off your day. If you’re bulemic.
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Welcome to Scotland, Barb! 🌻
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I’m assuming those “breakfasts” are from different countries. Wow! How on earth did the world population ever climb to 7 billion people?
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The usual way I’m guessing–they thought about those awful breakfasts and decided it would be a LOT more fun to stay in bed, and nine months later…
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A-ha! That must be it!
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