Breakfast at Wicky Dees ?

I mean why would you. Is it because the food's delicious ? A mix of Northern Thai fresh herbs and spices, combined with a soupçon of Central American heat, all rolled up in an aroma of French Michelin star cooking. Nope. More like bland bread – sweetened – with patties and eggs with the appearance and taste of your socks, in a room that soaks you with ‘Eau De Deep Fry’, all washed down with a cup of Joe. ‘Robusta’ Joe that is, not the more expensive ‘Arabica’ variety

(Ed Note : There are two globally dominant types of coffee bean. The ‘Robusta’ – weak, tasteless, wide-spread, and cheap. And ‘Arabica’ - big, bold, bounteous in taste, and with a cost akin to your car. The ‘Robusta’ is used predominantly for the reason of cost, but it would be just as effective to take a syringe of caffeine to work each morning. This method of receiving the ‘morning hit’ of what is basically a Class ‘C’ drug wouldn’t cause havoc on bladders)

We start the day there because every Wicky Dees restaurant in the world is like a womb with a view. Warm, clean, quiet, with the temperature carefully monitored and measured, everything being scrubbed, cleaned and re-cleaned every minute of every day. An environment that reminds us of a pre-natal delivery ward, the safe kitchens of our youth, and dining in a warm Mongolian yurt – albeit with a bunch of strangers. In this quiet chapel to the worship of fast food people can sit, quietly munching on a ‘Wac’, much like a bovine at the barn feed bin in a cold Canadian winter. Ruminating on life, concerned and uncertain about whether what they had ordered is actually what they are eating, or when these combustible calories would create chaos in their carotids

If we didn't have breakfast at Wickey Dees, what would be the choices? Toasted muesli, wholegrain toast with organic fruit jams, and fresh brewed ‘arabista’ at home; or eggs Florentine with freshly squeezed orange juice at any one of dozens of local cafes; or perhaps a salad sandwich - on fresh brown bread, with a piquant but delicious grape fruit juice - at a corner deli. All enjoyed at a leisurely, languorous, lingering pace

But no, Wicky Dees grabs us back, mesmerizing us and soothing us with air con, and ardor, and aroma; our noses drawn through its doors by the pungent but lethally lingering smell of "fresh coffee in the morn", our saliva like a water diviner, our senses 'pinging' back the location of this the nearest fast food womb, dragging us in towards an eventual arterial apocalypse

So why do we do it? Why do we go in, sit for less than 15 minutes, cram our bodies full of foods of questionable nutritional value, then be up and off and away at speed - until tomorrow mornings fast food culinary installment. The Nav thinks it's because of time - or our perceived lack thereof. We tell ourselves that we are too busy to sit at home or in a leisurely local cafe, family within hugging distance, and just enjoy quality time consuming quality ingredients

But are we too busy? If the children have 20 minutes less in the playground before class - who cares? Quality time with family will see them invariably as balanced adults with something to contribute to this little planet, and not become nervous, lonely, and incapable of communication

If we're 5 minutes late for that meeting, or submit presentations 30 minutes late, who cares? Bosses have families too. And work colleagues love to hear stories about 'flying bagels flung by a five year old', or 'coffee stains adding to the stripes on ties - splashed by a sibling'. Time is limited for each of us with family, and time forgets

The French do have it right. Food is not function, Food is LIFE!

Sadly The Nav suspects that the gaudy 'Golden W' will shortly appear in photo shots of the International Space Station circling above - beckoning

But then again in space you can't smell. There is hope

This is The Nav. Deep fat fried