There is something disproportionately pleasing about a tiny jar of hotel breakfast jam. It is jam. I know it is jam. Put it in a normal jar and I will make toast without giving it much thought. Put it in a jar apparently designed for a very small bear and suddenly breakfast has acquired a souvenir.
The little screw lid does a surprising amount of the work. A sealed plastic portion is practical, but a miniature jar feels like somebody has shrunk a proper pantry. Add a tiny honey pot and the table is halfway to being a doll’s house with unusually good catering. I am easily impressed by this sort of thing, and I am comfortable with that.
There is also the pleasure of choosing. Strawberry, marmalade, perhaps something a bit different if the breakfast spread is feeling ambitious. A modest piece of toast can become a tasting menu if you are prepared to take the decision far too seriously. The tiny spoon is optional but obviously improves the ceremony.
A good breakfast has plenty of legitimate selling points. For me, “the jam comes in little jars” deserves a place on the list. It is a small, silly detail that makes an ordinary thing more enjoyable. Also, I would quite like to see the toast made for the bear.