For me, cereal is the breakfast you have when you’ve forgotten to buy any bread. The mere idea of going to a cereal café and forking out three or four quid for a bowl of dried corn bits is well, loopy and goes totally against the wholegrain. But each to his or her own I say.
If Golden Grahams or Frosted Cheerios are your breakfast bag, who am I to judge? So it was with red-faced apoplexy that I read in the newspapers that a mob of 200, many of them masked, recently attacked the Cereal Killer Café in Shoreditch. Continue reading