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Monday, March 10, 2008

Welcome Aboard Toxic AirlinesIt's official: I'm three months ahead of the news. Back in December I wrote this article for The Kemptown Rag about Tristan Loraine, the former airline pilot who had to retire after breathing contaminated air in the cockpit of a Boeing 757, and has since made a film ('Welcome Aboard Toxic Airlines') about the alleged cover-up.

Well just yesterday, The Argus published this article. They're claiming that the film "will be premiered this week", so I obviously dreamt that I saw it on December 2nd. That aside, Ben Parsons' article isn't bad, but he doesn't mention Tristan's relationship with Wallace & Gromit, so I think it's one-nil to me.

Anyhoo, incurable romantics like myself will no doubt remember that for Valentine's Day last year, Lisa and I went to One Paston Place and spent an enjoyable couple of hours wondering which fork to use with saddle of rabbit. Well, someone somewhere must have read my review of the gnocchi, because a few months later, the chef was headhunted by a Mayfair restaurant and the place promptly closed. I like to think I had a hand in that.

Sam DifferenceBut the good news is that having found a new owner, it reopened in January as the all-new Sam's of Brighton, serving a "refreshingly unpretentious" menu in a "less formal setting". So what's the first main course listed? Yes, that's right, guinea fowl breast stuffed with boudin noir (or "nior" as the menu puts it), served with polenta. If it was any less pretentious, it would be KFC. I feel so refreshed.

Anyway, Sam's opens at 10am on Sundays for breakfast, so being too lazy to open a packet of Cornflakes, Lisa and I trudged around the corner yesterday morning to sample the delights of their ten quid fry-up. I have to say I much prefer the new decor. It now looks more like a restaurant and less like your grandmother's front room. Which for me is a definite plus. My grandmother's been dead for twenty years, so I dread to think what her front room looks like.

The one thing which hasn't changed, however, is the clientele. We were the only ones there. Again. We thought another customer had turned up at one point, but it turned out to be the owner's wife bringing their two children over to add the ambience of a crying baby to our dining experience.

Anyhoo, I'm still not sure how they can get away with charging a tenner for two sausages, two rashers of bacon, half a tomato, some scrambled eggs, a bit of toast and a cup of tea, but to be fair to them, we did refuse the black pudding, which was probably the most expensive part of the meal. It was all very nice though, and I felt less like Kate Middleton's Mum at a royal garden party this time, so I can't complain.