I have often fantasised about seeing my name on the menu. Having a dished named after you is form of immortality. Think of Beef Wellington. Think of the Sandwich.

Okay, enough grandiosity.

Celebrating a rare Saturday off filial duties, I had a late breakfast at my favourite French cafe/bistro.

I wanted to order what I had last time, adding a couple of items to their Eggs Florentine.

And there it was on the new menu - Oeufs Alec! (Actually the menu uses my physical-world name, but that woud never do on this blog). Apparently there have served it to several customers in the last few days, and it's judged a success. I won't tell you the full recipe.

Wait till you have a dish named after you - it's a real buzz!

Now I should make clear I am not being paid for this plug for Mange Tout in Trafalgar Street, just down this hill from Brighton Station. No special discounts for me. However, I am already devising a special mystery sauce for the chef, Christophe, to incorporate into a dish to be called Steak Too Much to Declare.