How do you like your eggs in the morning?

My son Matthew and I haven't done much in the way of Sunday breakfasts, this year. A combination of circumstances, such as Matthew working at weekends, but also with the appearance on the scene of a new girlfriend, have conspired against what had become something of a weekend ritual. In addition, Mrs PBT’s has been dishing up a cooked breakfast on Sunday mornings – not every week, mind you, but enough to disrupt, if that’s the right word, any plans we might have of driving off somewhere to feed our faces.

I might be wrong, but I get the impression breakfasting out is more of an American tradition than a British one. Certainly, on my first visit to the US I breakfasted with my brother-in-law, on several occasions, and my sister joined us a couple of times as well. Whatever the origin of this custom it's good to drive off and grab something satisfying and filling, on a day when there’s no work to be done, and no need to hurry. Looking back, Matthew and I had, whenever possible, been going along to support the fortnightly breakfasts held at Chiddingstone Causeway Village Hall, just a short hop from where I work. The idea behind these breakfasts is to raise money for the maintenance and upkeep of the hall, and for the bargain price of £7 a head, one can obtain a tasty and substantial full-English breakfast. The people who cook and serve these breakfasts are all volunteers who live locally, but unfortunately these Sunday sessions have become so popular, that the kitchen sometimes becomes overwhelmed.

Things reached a stage where Matthew and I stopped going, even on those occasions where we were both free, and it’s all down to a large crowd of diners who turn up, mob-handed, from one of the neighbouring villages.  I wouldn’t like to say which one they are from, although the smart money is on Penshurst. The latter is much larger than the Causeway, and it’s only a five-minute drive away. Consequently, a large group of around a dozen people, turn up more or less at once.  They arrive in a number of different cars, but once at the hall begin rearranging the furniture, by putting two or three tables together, so they can all sit round and gossip – as only country folk can do!

A you can imagine, this put quite a strain on the kitchen, which is staffed and run by a small team of volunteers, which includes the parents of one of my work colleagues. He has started getting to the hall, just after the 8am opening time, but that’s a little early for Matthew and me, but leave it until much after 8.45 am you will find yourselves having to wait a long time for your full-English to be served. I feel sorry for my colleagues’ parents both of whom are in their early 70s for being put under pressure in this way, but although I'm a fairly patient person, I really don't like having to wait too long for food I've ordered to arrive on the table.

This has been another factor in why we've only breakfasted there around three times this year. This is a shame, as it’s all in a good cause, but it has sparked off the search for a new breakfast venue. In doing so, I wanted to find somewhere of a similar standard, where the breakfast consisted of quality local ingredients, rather than the greasy spoon, cut-price establishment where the thin and watery bacon, the sawdust-filled sausages and rubbery, fried eggs are sufficient to put you off a cooked breakfast for life. I’d endured far too many of these type of places over the years, which made me all the more determined to find somewhere decent, for a change.

This is where the Chaser Inn at Shipbourne, appeared on the scene. Shipbourne is an attractive and well-spaced-out village to the north of Tonbridge, situated at the base of the Greensand Ridge. I knew the pub used to do breakfast on a Sunday morning, and a few years ago, before the advent of the pandemic, and Matthew and I had even tried to get ourselves a breakfast there. We arrived a bit late that particular day, and whilst I wasn't expecting to be able to park at the pub itself, I thought there would be spaces on the large green opposite. Unfortunately, there was no such luck, as Shipbourne Common is a very popular spot for dog walkers and people setting off on rambles or longer hikes, so it was definitely a case of no room at the inn.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, and I was again looking at somewhere where we could get a decent breakfast. I wasn't sure if the Chaser was still offering this on a Sunday morning, but a quick check on the pub website confirmed that they were. 

Furthermore, rather than the 8:00 am start operated by the Causeway Village Hall; the Chaser opened for breakfast at the slightly more civilised time of 9:00 am. So, on a rather dull and slightly overcast Sunday, I drove Matthew and I over to Shipbourne. Sure enough, there was no space in the pub car park, but fortunately this time around there was plenty of room on the green. We parked the car and walked across to the pub, and upon entering, were greeted by member of staff. I inquired about breakfast and was asked whether we had booked. I said no and was told that it was necessary. Looking around I noticed plenty of empty tables, in fact when we arrived, only one of them was occupied.

The young lady showed us to a table in the dining areas, at the right-hand side of the bar, an area decked out with various bookcases, to give it that antique, “lived-in” look. I ordered a pot of tea between the two of us, and a few minutes later a member of staff came over and took our order. I went for a full-on English breakfast, although I passed on the baked beans. For some strange reason haricot beans no longer agree with me so despite enjoying beans on toast when I was younger, I give them a wide berth these days. Matthew also went for the full English, but with hash browns as an extra.

It didn't take too long for our breakfasts to arrive, so this was a totally different experience to the Causeway Hall. The two poached eggs I'd ordered with my bacon, sausage, tomato, and black pudding were cooked just right, and were served on top of two slices of thick, nicely done toast. The food was very good, and it was obvious from the taste of the bacon and the sausage that they were quality items. Locally sourced too, according to the menu. It really does make all the difference paying that little bit extra, backing up what Mrs PBT's is always saying, about you get what you pay for.

The price of this excellent breakfast was £10.95, with the pot of tea costing £3.95 between the two of us, but it was a large pot, which contained more than enough for several cups each. Not long after we arrived, two other groups turned up, still not enough to crowd the place out, but sufficient to allow for a nice and relaxed atmosphere. I think we shall be going back again, the next time the pair of us have a free Sunday. Like I said earlier, I've had enough of budget priced transport café, greasy-spoon places where price comes before quality.

It's worth recording that the Chaser is owned by the same small pub-group (Whiting & Hammond), who own the Little Brown Jug in Chiddingstone Causeway, and like the village hall, just a few minutes’ walk away, they too offer breakfast on a Sunday morning. The lad and I have eaten there before, prior to the pandemic, so we might give place another try, especially if we arrive in the village and find that the hall car-park is full to overflowing. Having to wait ages, for my breakfast to arrive, is not the best way to start my day, and whilst I'd like to see the village hall succeed, I’m not sure what they can do about the influx of diners from the next village.