IT WAS Lilliput, memory suggests, where the nation was divided into Bigenders and Littlenders, depending on the direction from which they assaulted their eggs. It was in the cheek-by-jowl lay-by caf on the north-bound carriageway at Scotch Corner that the subject arose at a Breakfast Club meeting, though for reasons now forgotten.

Something to do, probably, with those who absorb the juices as they go along and those who save half a loaf for a major mopping-up operation at the end.

Unoriginally named Fryer Tuck's, it was until recently simply a van. Then they stuck a site hut on the back, though it was bucketing (as it does) and the sealant hadn't worked too well.

The atmosphere was curiously convivial, nonetheless, the Dunkirk spirit further encouraged by little chintz curtains and by the arrival of the Reverend Gentleman in his kilt. They award testimonials on vellum for less.

To help pass the time, there's also the Big Book of Saucy Seaside Postcards, the History of British Bikes (the noisy sort) and the Daily Sport, in keeping with the steamy atmosphere.

A chalked arrow indicated Gary, the owner, his accent suggesting that he'd started at the other end of the A1. All day breakfast with "endless" tea or coffee and particularly good bacon was £3, £11 for four - and unlike poor old Gulliver, no strings attached.

IMMEDIATELY after Christmas, with luck, we shall announce the winner of this year's Best Breakfast competition, though some among our number believe that Crusty's in Darlington has the edge already.

Firstly, however, a remarkable claim made by the Reverend Gentleman (returned, mercifully, to mufti) over the full English. St Nicholas, he insisted, was not only the patron saint of thieves but the verb "nick" - as in larcenously remove - owed its origins to the selfsame Santa.

"Utter nonsense," we said, and wagered a Mars Christmas stocking (size ten) as a sign of faith.

"It's true," insisted the Reverend Gentleman, who'd previously been Vicar of St Nick's in Boldon Colliery and had ever since carried the canard.

The Penguin Dictionary of Saints lists Nicholas as the patron of children (of course), of sailors, merchants and pawnbrokers - and not all of them thieves. The Oxford saints' dictionary adds unmarried girls, apothecaries and perfumiers to his extensive patronage and claims that Nicholas has a "reputation as a thaumaturge". Then again, haven't we all?

What Oxford Saints also reveals, however, is that the tea leaves' patron is Dismas, the thief crucified alongside Christ - "Truly thou shalt be with me in heaven." The meticulous Oxford English Dictionary in turn offers no evidence under nick ("origin obscure") on which to hang poor Santa Claus. The Rev Christopher Wardale has put his foot in it: the Mars Christmas stocking lands shortly.

CRUSTY'S is in Northgate, Darlington's most cosmopolitan thoroughfare. Indian, Italian and Cantonese restaurants are neighbours across the road, Tex-Mex, fried chicken and pasta masters crowd for custom.

This is decidedly English, however, full English breakfast with tea or coffee and toast just £2.75, sirloin steak and all the trimmings £3.75, adverts for taxi drivers and kung fu classes or possibly kung fu cabbies.

Tables are arranged transport caf style, service is friendly and enthusiastic, atmosphere cheerful. One of us thought everything a bit salty, another questioned what - "whale grease," he surmised - was spread upon the toast; none could doubt the outstanding value for money or the overall quality.

But will it earn a Crusty's commendation? The results hang over until Boxing Day.

STILL with our religious correspondent, last week's column suggested - flippantly, as ever - that Monet was the root of all evil. Harry Watson in Darlington rebukes us not for the puny pun but for the biblical misquotation.

It's from 1 Timothy 6:10: "The LOVE of money is the root of all evil," wrote St Paul.

The Andrews Sisters apparently made the same mistake. Probably, adds Harry chivalrously, you're not old enough to remember.

BUDDHIST monks chanted a blessing at the official opening of the region's newest Thai restaurant, only their lips seeming to move as they did so. It was like "For what we are about to receive", only about 50 times longer and altogether more impressive.

The Numjai, which means "essence of kindness", is in the Milburngate Centre in Durham - views over the river to castle and cathedral - and was opened at precisely 12.29pm by Gerry Steinberg, the city's MP.

The time had to have a 9 in it. "We've been told by our astronomical advisers," said Graham Morris, the MC, who probably meant "astrological". Either way, it was a bit like waiting for the new year clocks to strike midnight, only without the stick and the bit coal for the fire.

The great, the good and the Eating Owt column were all invited - three MPs, the Dean, the University vice-chancellor, links from sundry municipal chain gangs. We were treated royally.

The Numjai aims unequivocally to become Britain's best Thai restaurant - "an unforgettable culinary experience," said Pradit Manakit, the general manager, who has degrees in hospitality management and is known for convenience as Mac. After the monks they brought on the dancing girls, traditionally dressed and exceptionally attractive.

"Just look at the fingernails on them lasses," said John Cummings, the member for Easington. It is doubtless what's known as being politically correct.

SAM Stoker, retired Durham college principal and a non-executive director of Kingslodge Developments, writes appreciatively of last week's piece on the new Kingslodge Hotel in the city. Educationalist that he is, however, Sam's concerned about the aberrant apostrophes. "Here am I with a shullful of degrease, and neebody has the sense to ask us to hev a skwint at the menewes and things afor they gan to the printers". Sam's originally a Browney lad - and they'd never have got away with such unpunctiliousness, he insists, in the programme for Browney Juniors.

ANOTHER guide's out, it's the season, and this one reckons North Yorkshire one of Britain's top three eating areas outside London - Glasgow and Manchester the others. Familiar favourites like McCoy's, the Star at Harome and the Crab and Lobster at Asenby are joined by more recent discoveries like the Travellers Rest at Dalton, near Richmond ("enthusiastic owners and inspired recipes"), the Hack and Spade at Whashton ("lovely atmosphere") and the Rowan Tree at Askrigg, in Wensleydale ("exciting combinations of ingredients").

Co Durham's greatest hits among 1,300 entries crowded into Harden's Top UK Restaurants 2001 (£9.95) include the Seven Stars at Shincliffe "cosy village pub, very reasonable prices"), Shaheen's Indian Bistro near Durham Cathedral ("crazy but charming service") and the dear old Stile in Willington - "some people say the results are amazing". Perhaps Mike Boustred will change his mind about selling, after all.

...and finally, the bairns wondered if we knew what a whole apple can do that half an apple can't.

Look round.