Eggs Benedict. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I mean, is there a more perfect breakfast food? I think not. I don’t need to bore you with the details–the perfectly cooked egg that oozed yolk just-so, etc.–because I know all you really want to do is ogle the photo. Thank you, Langham London, for sending me on my way to Gay Pa-ree with a full tummy.
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