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It would only be pretentious if I didn't really think it was an awesome breakfast, which it is. It is my favourite breakfast, if I woke up to that I'd purr like a Wookie. He wasn't hungover, but if he was it would have been doubly so because it would help replenish his salts (anchovies) and vitamins (tomato) as well as providing a concentrated source of energy (oil).
Served with a refreshing deglazer, on this occasion a large mug of tea, it is a fantastic start to the day.
He just didn't think I would make something like that for him because we are both manly blokes and you don't make nice food for your mates, apparently.
I called him an ungrateful bastard and pointed out that he never fucking shuts up about "That breakfast we had on holiday" and he ate it, said it was lovely, but it was the idea that I was crossing some hitherto unknown line in our friendship that annoyed me.