AW Scott

«I’ll take a breakfast, please.»
«Large or regular?»
Well, I’m hardly going to say regular, am I?
«Large.»
What the very nice lady serving me should have added but didn’t is, «OK. Say goodbye to the current dimensions of your stomach.» That thing was HUGE. I didn’t need to eat again for the rest of the day, and for me that’s really saying something. Rather than list everything I’ve simply uploaded a photo so you can see for yourself. Bigger, of course, doesn’t necessarily mean better. Fortunately, it was dead tasty, too. Cooked well, not too greasy, a massive breadcake for dipping and I even managed to get in one of my five-​a-​day. The best thing about it was that despite the fact I could have tripped out of the door and rolled right onto Briggate on my way out, it came in at around a fiver with a coffee to wash it down.
Scotts isn’t just a greasy spoon, however. It’s a bakery, too. In this capacity it’s functional if not astonishing. Everything you’d expect to be there is present and accounted for and tastes good enough (if not particularly sensational).
If you want a buttie or an eccles cake you could do worse, but if you want a hearty breakfast in LS1 you probably won’t do any better.