The topic of brunch can be touchy. For some, it’s a ritual to be celebrated, shared, and emblazoned on T-shirts. For others, it means standing in too long a line for some forgettable eggs. But everyone, everywhere, seems to have an opinion on this eminent meal mashup. So, are you in or out on brunch? We offer two perspectives below.
To argue the value of brunch, you must understand the nuances. Most importantly, there are actually two types of brunch. First up, you’ve got a recovery brunch. The recovery brunch is like a freshman intro class: you probably don’t even remember taking it but you did. This type of brunch comes after some late-night fun and antics you probably wouldn’t discuss with your boss or parents. Midday you peel yourself out of bed (looking about as presentable as the floor of a bar bathroom on $1 shot night) and go meet friends for the nutrition and hydration your body is absolutely begging you for. Some of my best college memories were not at the party but the day after when my friends and I would head over to the Chinese buffet or local diner around noon. We didn’t call it brunch, but it was.
The other type of brunch, the one I believe causes much more debate, is the bougie brunch. You already know what this one is because it is the way that all brunches are portrayed these days. This brunch is planned well in advance: reservations are set, outfits are chosen, and the mimosas are bottomless. The pomp and circumstance of it all is probably what repels some, but to you I say, fear not! Brunch is what you make of it. The popularity of athleisure means you’re never underdressed, and this socially acceptable occasion to day-drink is not something you should miss out on. Can’t decide between savory or sweet? Brunch gives you both. Chicken and waffles—my argument could end right there but I’ll give you more. Do you want to go out but hate the idea of losing sleep and getting home at 3 a.m.? Brunch will have you in bed by 5 p.m. if you do it right.
Also, have you ever gone to a drag brunch? Try it (don’t forget to bring some single dollar bills). You’ll thank me later.
To me, the perfect day off is one in which I move about during the day like a shark—that is, having no firm plan but always flitting in the direction of whatever strikes my interest at that moment, prowling for snacks and grabbing assorted treats on the go throughout the day, gliding from one little task or activity to the next. Here’s a peek at my ideal Sunday: read a chapter in a book, do laundry, hit up the farmers market and buy absolutely nothing, return a baking dish to a friend, stay for a quick coffee, stroll to the dog park, rewatch an episode of a classic sitcom, bake something, stop at the taproom for a beer, peruse the pastry selection at a new bakery in town, eat whatever I baked, and finally break down all the cardboard boxes sitting in the entryway before heading out to meet a friend for an early dinner.
You know what activity renders all those other activities impossible? Brunch.
Brunch is a day-killer by design. Its bottomless mimosas, the heavy food designed to fill you with two meals for the price of one, the outright theatrics of being made to wait in line all the way down the block when you made your reservations weeks ago, the expectation that you roll up to the restaurant with some sort of hat pinned to your beach waves—how am I supposed to fit in all my beloved little Sunday tasks around this much pomp and circumstance (as Angela rightly calls it)?
Brunch only ever knows how to be the center of attention, but we don’t have to grant it that attention. It’s just one long, heavy, and rarely memorable meal. If I’m going to catch up with friends on the weekend, I’d rather meet up just about anywhere else.
Unless we’re talking drag brunch, in which case please disregard everything I’ve said above. Drag brunch negates all aforementioned brunch gripes. It is an esteemed category of dining and I’ll speak no word against it.