The £15 Avocado Trap — Why Central London Breakfasts Are a Scam in Disguise
English breakfast was once the working man’s daily fuel—greasy, glorious, and never more than a fiver at a decent caff. Now? The same plate, cleaned up and sprinkled with chives, is £18 and served by someone named Finn who calls you “babe.”
By The Bean Sprout
There’s a quiet scandal brewing beneath the poached eggs and turmeric lattes of Central London: breakfast has become an extortion racket. And no one seems to be talking about it.
In Soho, Covent Garden, or Fitzrovia, you can barely sit down before you’re being charged £14.50 for eggs on toast—and that’s before you add any extras. Want a sausage? That’s another £3. Bacon? £3.50. A hash brown? Weirdly, the same price as a small Picasso print.
You’ll leave having eaten what is essentially a 30p egg, half an avocado, and a slice of sourdough, but your card balance will feel like you spent the weekend in Ibiza.
The “Artisanal” Illusion
What used to be a humble start to the day has been transformed into a lifestyle performance. Menus now read like manifestos:
“Heritage tomatoes”
“Ancient grain granola”
“Wildflower honey harvested by monks on the Isle of Wight”
It’s breakfast, not a pilgrimage.
Let’s break this down:
A box of six free-range eggs costs under £2. A loaf of decent sourdough is £3. So even if you’re using high-quality ingredients, how do we get to £16 for ‘eggs florentine’?
We don’t. It’s marketing markup, baby. Breakfast has become a status symbol.
Bottomless Brunch = Bottomless Nonsense
Ah yes, the bottomless brunch. The modern capitalist brunch-industrial complex. For £45, you can have one pancake, a whisper of smoked salmon, and four diluted mimosas made with Prosecco that tastes like printer ink.
The margins on this are wild. You’re paying for the Instagram clout and a vague feeling that you’re doing something sophisticated. It’s not breakfast. It’s theatre.
Is It Really That Hard to Make Toast?
The most egregious example: £5.50 for buttered toast. Not even a topping. Just toast. For that price, I want a life coach and a hug from Nigella Lawson.
Let’s not forget: we’re in a country where the full English breakfast was once the working man’s daily fuel—greasy, glorious, and never more than a fiver at a decent caff. Now? The same plate, cleaned up and sprinkled with chives, is £18 and served by someone named Finn who calls you “babe.”
The Central London Breakfast Formula:
Rent: high.
Tourists: plentiful.
Locals: too tired to argue.
Solution: hike the prices, give it a minimalist font, add chili flakes. Done.
How to Beat the Breakfast Scam:
Go old school. Find your local greasy spoon and never let go. It’s where real value and real conversation live.
DIY breakfasts. Cook at home and save £40. You can make five brunches for the price of one at The Ivy.
Avoid the Instagram cafés. If the tables are pink, the coffee is £5 and the food is a lie.
Final Word
If you’re paying more for your breakfast than a cinema ticket, you’ve been had. Central London has many charms—but £18 for porridge shouldn’t be one of them. Demand better. Or at least demand jam with your £5 toast.
Hungry for truth, not truffle oil? You’re in the right place. Subscribe to The Bean Sprout for more dispatches from London’s overpriced underbelly
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London’s Underground Takeover: Are Squirrels Secretly Running the Tube?
You thought delays, signal failures and mysterious announcements were just part and parcel of life on the London Underground. Think again. A shocking new theory – whispered on escalators and hushed between earphones – suggests that it’s not engineers, but a shadowy cabal of squirrels who have seized control of our beloved transport system.
### The fluffy masterminds
It began, as most conspiracy theories do, with a commuter who had nothing better to do. After a long wait on a Northern Line platform, he noticed a squirrel perched suspiciously near the control booth. Was it merely after crumbs, or was it taking notes on the driver’s techniques? Soon, sightings of rodents in hi‑vis vests and tiny hats spread across social media.
Critics scoffed. “Squirrels don’t understand signalling systems,” said a Transport for London spokesperson, nibbling nervously on a nut. Yet platform staff were seen dropping whole bags of KP nuts near the driver’s cab and muttering about “overtime for the furry ones.” Coincidence? We think not.
### Signal failures or sabotage?
Every Londoner knows the heartbreak of seeing “Severe delays on the Central line.” Could it be because a grey‑coated insurgent chewed through the wiring? Sources (a man in the pub) report that squirrels have been taking night classes in electrical engineering. Meanwhile, the Mayor’s office insists these animals are simply a “natural part of the ecosystem,” ignoring clear evidence of tiny paw prints on control panels.
### Government complicity
Why hasn’t Westminster acted? Some suggest the Government is too busy counting their own nuts to notice. Others believe this is a deliberate attempt to distract the public – what better way to keep people frustrated than to cede control of the Tube to chaos‑loving rodents? One backbencher has called for an inquiry, but was laughed out of the chamber after tripping over a tail.
### What can we do?
Londoners, do not despair. If you see a squirrel with a pocket watch, report it. Refuse to be silenced by those who say, “It’s just a rodent.” Invest in a good pair of walking shoes and perhaps learn to enjoy the bus. Above all, remember: when your next train is inexplicably terminated at Kennington, there may be a squirrel at the controls, chittering merrily as it redirects you to Morden.
Of course, this is all completely ridiculous – or is it? Either way, it’s something to ponder the next time you’re stuck in a tunnel, staring at a dark wall and wondering who, or what, is driving your journey.Write your text here...