Somewhere over Europe.
I watched wistfully as the person in the seat next to me was given their non-vegetarian breakfast. Perched on top of the expanded-polystyrene egg was a pallid slither of bacon that looked very tempting to my weary eyes. And there, the tomato, the mushroom, the glossy pile of spinach.
But my vegetarian meal was about to arrive; what need did I have for lustful thoughts for bacon? A forkful or two of limp spinach would soon restore my equilibrium. I suspect I was licking my lips as I peeled away the foil lid of the breakfast tray.
Wonder of wonders! There was - naturally - no bacon. There was my egg, thicker than plaster of paris and as spongy as foam. And there my tomato, and mushroom.
But no spinach. Oh no, not for the vegetarians, no sir. Vegetarians do not, after all, eat spinach for breakfast, do they? No no no. Keep that for the meat eaters.
Vegetarians eat broccoli for breakfast.