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editor’s note

PHOTOGRAPHS: STEVE RYAN, JUSTIN FOULKES, NATIONAL MOTOR MUSEUM/AGE FOTOSTOCK, SUWANDI CHANDRA. ILLUSTRATION: ANDREA DE SANTIS

I have brave taste buds. While travelling I have chomped my way through plenty of foods obscure to my British palate: jam made from bush-foraged quandong fruit in Australia; a deep-fried guinea pig in Ecuador; spookilysoft goat brain masala in India; a crunchy waterbug and papaya salad in Thailand. However, when my colleagues – with smirks on their faces – encouraged me to go in search of the perfect Scotch egg (p38), they knew I would have to confront my nemesis: the runny egg. It won’t be much of a spoiler to reveal that after a day of eating my way around London, I grew to love a soft yolk – just so long as it is balanced by the crispest of crumbs and warm, heartily-seasoned sausage meat.

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