Southwestern breakfasts are a way of life, and I’ve become an addict.  Warm tortillas or sopaipillas, burritos stuffed with scrambled eggs, potatoes, bacon or sausage, avocado, black beans, red beans, all splattered with green and red ‘Christmas’ chile sauce made from the hottest New Mexican varieties; and not forgetting huevos rancheros in its myriad manifestations. I make these things at home as well as most, if not all, the cafes and restaurants in Santa Fe.  But they remind me of English breakfasts too!  With Britain’s reputation for bland food, that must sound a bit far-fetched.  But I remember English breakfast, a morning ritual for the working class, a weekend ritual for the rest of us. It was a piece de resistance: fried eggs, back bacon (so good) and/or pork sausage, Heinz baked beans, a mushroom, well-fried sliced tomatoes, and buttered toast galore.  And this of course with a cup of strong Typhoo tea.  I think I’ll open an English/New Mexican breakfast joint.