There is, however, a slight problem.
He doesn't like pastry.
He admitted this to me the other day. We were chatting about lunch, what we would be eating that day. I told him of my admiration for a certain local baker who made the most delicious sausage rolls.
"I don't like sausage rolls, I like sausages but not the roll bit. I hate pastry".
"What? You don't like pastry?"
"I hate the stuff, Ever since I was little".
In my mind this is almost a disqualification to being English. I have a nightmarish vision of being hauled up before some shadowy Whitehall committee to explain and justify why this lad should be allowed to remain in the country, I'd have to reason with the pastry politburo, I'd have to beg them to allow him to stay.
This is like a Frenchman not liking cheese or wine.
This is like a German not liking meat or the ensuing fart based humour.
In order to illustrate my point I should like to offer the jury two pictures of my breakfast. I should like to add that the following images could cause offence and that they merely represent my occasional weekend breakfast. I use the images to show the creative genius the English employ when working in the media of pastry.
This breakfast roll contains sausage, bacon, egg and baked beans all rolled together in a tender, loving caress of shortcrust pastry. Fresh from the bakers for less than three quid.
The end view shows a bit more detail, including a bean, nestled next to the various pork products in the interior.
I simply have to ask, Why would anybody not love this delicious morsel?