It's All Uphill From Here

The day started badly.
Sarah has always bleated on about the AMAZING breakfasts in the Asian hotels. The last time we did KL, the hotel breakfast buffet was expansive. Anything you could think of. Phuket, just the same. Further afield to Dubai, the largest buffet she has ever seen. So she was looking forward to breakfast. Waves away the menu, no we'll do the buffet thanks.
And off she goes.
Back in a minute. There's nothing hot! No eggs, no bacon, no hash browns, nothing from the European side of the buffets we've had in this part of the world before.
It appears that the buffet is pretty much the continental choices, and the rest is a la carte. Bugger. Where's that menu again?

I'm not sure if this little story has made it into this load of old tripe in an earlier post, but like many things, is worth repeating.
Let me just start by saying that today was not Sarah's first brush with breakfast Armageddon. A few years ago, we spent a night at the Park Royal in Christchurch. The package, again a bargain she had hunted down, included breakfast, in the restaurant or in the room.
Sarah decided in her wisdom that we would have breakfast in our room. So out comes the menu card from the back of the door handle. I tick everything I want. Fruit, bacon and eggs, toast.
She ticks what she wants. Cereal, juice and bacon. Now as we all know, bacon is a traditional accompaniment for eggs, so the choices of eggs are there. Fried, boiled, scrambled etc.
Now as some may be aware, Sarah doesn't do eggs. Doesn't like them.
The problem is that the kitchen didn't know that, so she had to make sure they wouldn't inadvertently put eggs with her bacon. Any eggs on the plate, and she won't touch the bacon.
Yes, I know. Just a little retentive.

So, she is very clear in her instructions.
Tick the choice of cereal.
Tick the choice of juice.
Tick the bacon.
CROSS the scrambled eggs.
CROSS the fried eggs.
CROSS the boiled eggs.
CROSS any other kind of eggs.

Job done, off to bed.

At the predetermined time, there was a knock at the door. I open it an in comes a guy with a tray, and puts it on the table. Then he goes out, but comes straight back in with another tray. And then another.

Sarah had her cereal and juice and bacon.
I had my fruit, bacon and eggs and toast.
And 2 boiled eggs, and another scrambled eggs, and 2 fried eggs. And poached.

The guys in the kitchen must have thought we were taking the piss with our free breakfast.

Needless to say, I didn't eat eggs again for some time.

Back to the hotel with the initial on the roof.
Most hotel buffets use the big dishes floating in hot water to keep everything hot without burning or drying out. Some French name I can't remember how to spell, something about marines.
Sarah likes that style, lashings of everything, lashings of choices.

I think that maybe the really posh ones think that the punters serving themselves with a ladle is just not done. Bugger again.