Apropos of nothing, there is a cafe in Burgess Hill (or it might be Haywards Heath) which sells fry-ups by the piece. Buy the 12-piece special and you can have a dozen pieces in any combination of black pudding, bacon, egg, sausage, fried bread, hash browns, tomatoes, etc. etc. etc.
It’s a mighty big feed…
Fried bread is one of the blessings of being English. (I figure my ancestor’s genes worked out a way to cope with the cholesterol.)
A couple of years ago, while visiting friends in Maine, I tried an experiment. I had a loaf of good, bakery bread, and they traditionally served bacon to visiting friends. After the bacon was cooked, I fried half of the bread in the leftover bacon fat and toasted and buttered the other half. There was leftover toast, not fried bread, and I think I gave them a new idea.
Hmmm. Maybe I should turn up at the folks’ place early enough for breakfast on Saturday . . .
How does anything get done in Britain?! Based on what I’m hearing, nobody can move for at least three hours after breakfast!
That’s why football matches start at 3pm 
For a start, a full cooked breakfast isn’t an everyday thing anymore. If we have one, it’ll be on a Sunday when we’ve got time to slump on the sofa with the papers while it digests. And secondly, fried bread doesn’t have be white. My way of doing it (which I admit isn’t traditional), is to dip a slice of wholemeal bread in the pan after I’ve removed the bacon, and use it to mop up any remaining fat and bits of bacon. It is the yum. One side only, though, else it’s too soggy and fatty.
I was once in a café that served up its breakfasts on those large oval meat plates designed for the Sunday roast. Another mighty big feed !
going home tomorrow … and not a moment too soon …
Ah yes, toast is toast and its role is different. Buttered toast with scrambled eggs of course but with"a fry" it has to be fried bread - drink enough strong tea and it’ll help corrode the grease from the inside of your mouth 
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I went camping a while back, and the guy with the Coleman stove offered toast. “Toast?” I said, “How do make toast on a Coleman stove?” He showed me. He buttered two slices of bread on both sides, and he plopped 'em in a wiped-clean frypan. In a few minutes, we had toast, sorta.
I’m not much into camping. Let sleeping bags lie, I say.