Jacob Rees-Mogg: My Day on a Plate

This week, Jacob Rees-Mogg reveals to us his daily dining routine…

 

Breakfast

Breakfast is a leisurely affair, most usually spent whilst flicking through the Book of Latin Quotations to find some choice phrases to use on Twitter to reinforce my intellectual authority. Scientia potentia est. Previously I would break my fast with an omelette of quail’s eggs, but having recently discovered that these are readily available to the common folk (even Waitrose sell them now, for heaven’s sake!), I now dine on kingfisher eggs which have a far more elegant flavour. These I wash down with a small goblet of Nanny’s exquisitely creamy breast milk, or if I’m feeling especially indulgent I will suckle directly from the teat.

Mid-Morning Snack

Breakfast usually has the desired effect of setting me up for the rest of the day, but on those occasions where hunger just gets the better of me I order Nanny to make me one of her delightful smoothies. I’m afraid that I am under strict orders not to divulge her secret recipe, but I don’t think she will reproach me to an excessive degree if I tell you that it involves foie gras and a touch of beluga caviar. And, of course, a happy splash of her magnificent milk.

 

Luncheon

Lobster at The Dorchester is a particular favourite for luncheon. I’ll also have a cheeky snifter or two of Remy Martin Louis XIII cognac. Yes, yes – it may well cost £22, 000 for a bottle, but one must enjoy one’s little luxuries every now and then! Or, indeed, every lunch time! Seriously – no home should be without at least one bottle of this heavenly liquor.

 

Afternoon snack

Being the devout catholic-on-the-go I’m lucky if I have the time to gobble down a handful of communion wafers between plotting for the dismantling of the NHS and the total deregulation of the labour market.

 

Evening meal

This, admittedly, can be a most extravagant affair. I especially look forward to Friday evenings when it is customary to dine on roast swan (I’m lucky enough to have some contacts at The Palace who can arrange this for me). The leftover meet goes a long way to providing food for the household staff for the rest of the week. I often overhear them complaining that they’re really rather fed-up of swan curry. All good-natured, jocular grumbling of course! After a small amount of Nanny’s ‘special cheese’ (I think you can guess the secret ingredient), it’s off to bed. I allow myself a nightcap. This consists of the tears of one of our cleaners who is on minimum wage. I slip a little extra into her wage slip every week and she’ll cry, quite prodigiously, into a cup. This, I like to think, is the secret of my eternal youth. On Saturday evenings, however, I’ll just have a few Stellas and a family bag of beefy Monster Munch and slump in my onesie in front of X-Factor.