A sunny and cold day in Brighton followed a freezing cold but very heavy night out in Hove. Breakfast, at the appropriate time of 13.30, saw us heading for Bill's Produce Store on North Road. I was a Bill's virgin but the rest of the party were veterans who led me to this wonderful place.
Unremarkable from the outside, save for the plastic curtain/door which gives the impression of entering a butcher's, Bill's is a sight for sore eyes once inside. The walls are lined floor to ceiling with foodie products from oriental rarities (including pickled grubs) to own-label chutneys and oils. The second thing that strikes is the popularity of the place. Yes, it was lunchtime on a Sunday, but the place was teeming. I (in my first-time naivety) felt we would never get a seat but the waitress who served us worked very hard to move people about to accommodate our party of six, while ensuring no one felt they were getting a raw deal. So we sat, and shared the one menu between the whole table (we weren't offered another). I got no further than the first option which was Bill's vegetarian breakfast of toast, two poached eggs, tomatoes, home-made humous, avocado, mushrooms and sweet chilli sauce for an appropriate £6.80. The others around the table went for 3 portions of Bill's breakfast at £7.80, another vegetarian breakfast and an eggs Benedict with ham at £5.85. Coca-cola would have gone down well with one or two of our party to combat rather heavy heads and unsettled stomachs but Bill's does not do Coke. Instead, we asked for a jug of tap water with 6 glasses (we received 6 full glasses but no jug unfortunately which irked the more dehydrated among us) and 4 opted for large fresh orange juices which seemed a little steep to me at £3.20 but exceedingly tasty. I hoped that one of the juices of the day (carrot, orange and ginger at £2.95) would perk me up and indeed it did.
Now, I know that as hunger increases, concept of time becomes skewed and a moment can stretch to a lifetime. Even with this in mind, the food did take an inordinately long time. Even our drinks took about 15 minutes to arrive (not good for a table of dehydrated zombies). I spent the time eyeing up others' plates, none of which would I have turned down; it all looked wonderful. Eventually, our food came. It looked good, it looked very good. I was pleased with my choice as it was set down in front of me but the poached eggs looked strange. And with one prod of my fork, I knew that they were seriously overcooked. I glanced around the table and everyone was silently prodding their own poached eggs with curious expressions. I looked at tables around us where other diners were having an identical experience. I'm no chef, but I am aware that the only thing you need to do to not overcook eggs is take them out a tad earlier. Or perhaps a few minutes earlier in this case. What baffles me is that it actually takes more effort and time to overcook an egg than it does to cook it properly which makes me wonder whether they were batch-cooked and reheated upon order which is equally baffling in an eatery which places so much emphasis on 'excellent standards' upheld by those who are 'passionate about food'.
Personally, everything else was faultless food wise, although the veterans around the table complained that the bread used for the toast wasn't as good as it usually is. Bellies comfortably full and under the misguided impression that we had made up for what we had put our bodies through the night before, we asked for the bill which presented an apparently substantial problem. Being that most of the party was made up of students on tight budgets, it was agreed that each would pay exactly what s/he owed. I came back to the table from the interestingly unisex toilets with scented toilet paper to a confused conversation about paying some on card, some by cash and then the waitress walked away to let us sort it out amongst ourselves, overlooking the fact that she needed to be there with the machine to put card payments through. When she came back some time later to ask how we were getting on, I said I was just working out what I owed and she walked away again. Eventually, an exasperated member of the party, desperate to get back in time for the Wales-Scotland rugby match which was to start at 3, bellowed 'Can we please just pay?' as soon as a member of waiting staff was within earshot. With some umming and erring, we succeeded but I was surprised as I'm sure, especially in a student town, people often opt to pay separately and it really needn't cause such a problem.
Bill's is an excellent concept and a placed I warmed to immediately. The rows of beautiful cakes, adorned with flowers, the shelves of jars and pots and bags and the lively atmosphere all make it a joy to behold. It is a shame that something so easily rectifiable as overcooked eggs should mar an otherwise lovely experience. read more