Whenever I'm in an airport, I seek out the Caviar House. I don't know why. Maybe it's an excuse to drink champagne at odd times. Maybe it's the gravadlax, which I've always had a softspot for. Maybe it's the lemon served in mesh bags or the idea that if I really really wanted to, I could drop £165 on breakfast. (St. James Solo Caviar.)
Whatever it is, I keep coming back.
Old habits. Die hard.
Enjoy your weekend. And try not to melt.