Little Chef

Ahhh Little Chef. Service station of my childhood. Of my adulthood, overpriced and badly cooked food. I could have sworn that you were all consigned to the sands of time, but here you are, still dotted around the A1. Given the options I had travelling home — Moto or you, I was definitely plumping for you.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I had had some good times at Little Chef, and LC excels in basic cholesterol generating food. Which was perfect, as I really needed a hot breakfast to line the belly for my trip back up to Scotland. I could have chosed smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, but honestly, I felt like that would have been a letdown, which in fairness is entirely unjust. Go for the veggie breakfast instead.
Thumbs up: exchanging toast/​fried bread for sauteed potatoes without as much as a glance
Thumbs up: rushing my cup of tea over. I was so cold, and so very happy to see that pot arrive.
Thumbs down: Veggie sausage was gross.
Little Chef still isn’t the cheapest option in town, but this particular operation was shoulders above the motos that blot the motorway landscape and I am glad I held out to find an LC to take my main break from riding. I missed service stations in the states — now I wonder why, when in reality, these places tend to be absolute holes, but some are most definitely better than others.