Pon settled herself into the metal seat alongside Tic and took up the menu before putting it down as she had decided what they were having.

They liked the Café Mort Street, it was homely, the staff polite and was run by the Kim family. Today was special for Pon and Tic, had set themselves the task of assessing the best scrambled eggs in town. As they liked the Café Mort Street, it was the ideal place to start.

Scrambled eggs were a stable. Everyone sold them, cooked them, and like most things in life they varied from café to café.

They were greeted warmly by one of the three waitresses they knew as Small Kim, Tall Kim and Stout Kim. Their English language skills were sufficient enough to enable each of them to find the end of the menu.

The café was run efficiently by the very busy Mrs Kim and her husband Park. Mrs. Kim kept an eagle eye on the café, the customers, and in particular her staff.

Stout Kim was often the subject of her ire as she tended to lounge around rather than pay close attention to clearing and cleaning vacated tables.

As was their practice Pon did the ordering. Tic was happy to allow Pon that task as she always got their coffee and breakfast order right. In the past Tic, his aged mind desperately trying the remember Pon’s preference for a large, skinny flat white and his own as a large half-strength skinny flat white had somehow managed to muddle it up resulting in Pon patting him on the arm and saying: “ Don’t worry pet, you’ll get it right next time.”

So the ordering was left to Pon, Scrambled Eggs on Sourdough, to share, with two plates, and extra butter.

The question as to why they shared was simply answered by understanding they felt satisfied with the half they consumed and so it became their practice to share their breakfast.

At Café Mort Street, the toast would be cut in half and the eggs, which always came in a small ramekin, as illustrated above, would also be evenly divided.

The eggs were always tasty and there was often a hint of salt, depending on which chef cooked them that day. Pon and Tic didn’t like too much salt and she had often warned Tic about his previous misguided practice of sprinkling his scrambled eggs with extra salt and black sauce.

Their breakfast would be finished off with their coffee, which was always of a high quality.

They rated the Mort Street Café highly and looked forward to their next café and scrambled eggs to see how they measured up.

The Café Mort Street they decided was a 9/10. The standard had been set.