The 30-Day Writing & Publishing Project, Day 16: The Thing About Brunch

Let us consider brunch. Brunch is lovely. Brunch is fun. Brunch is the reward for a week of working hard and being responsible. Brunch is the opportunity to drink champagne before noon. Or, if you live in North Carolina like I do, the opportunity to drink AT noon, because no alcohol is served here on Sundays until the magic hour of 12:00 p.m. 

Brunch is also the chance to go off your no dairy, no alcohol, no meat, no sugar, no fun and no flavor diet routine and go wild.  Now admittedly, the uber-disciplined among us won’t be using brunch as an excuse to stop eating healthy, even for one day, but I say to those people:  you are boring.  You are no fun. You are a brunch pooper.

The Sunday brunch routine starts on Saturday night with a text exchange like this:

My friend, C: “We still on for brunch tomorrow?”

K: “You bet. Where and what time?”

C: “That French place downtown would be ideal.”

K: “Hmmm, I think the French place is closed on Sundays.”

C: “That’s unfortunate.  How’s about we start at the CAM* then, then see where the day takes us.”

K: “The food’s decent at the CAM, but the mimosas are weak.  Why don’t I come up with 2 or 3 ideas before tomorrow and we’ll meet at noon at your house and pick one.”

C: “Perfect.”

Sunday at 9:00 a.m.: Sign on to the interwebz and Google up “best brunch Wilmington, NC.” Find out the French place is actually open, and come up with two other options downtown as well, in case there’s a terribly long wait at the French place.  

Make note of brunch specials, if any. Double check that alcohol will indeed be served at the crack of noon. Yes indeed. Glorious.

Let the day begin.

You arrive at your friend’s house at 11:30 a.m. on a gorgeous summer day, full of anticipation for the girl talk, downtown people-watching, and dedicated mimosa-imbibing on the day’s horizon.

Deciding to go Southern this day instead of French, you make your way to The Basics, and stand in line with 20 or so strangers, waiting for your turn to be seated so you can revel in the Southern Benedict. Or maybe this time you’ll get that veggie sandwich you love so much, the one with the grilled zucchini on ciabatta with fresh mozzarella, tomatoes and some kind of delicious vinaigrette. And let’s not forget a refreshing pomegranate mimosa or three. 

Finally, it’s your turn to be sat.  You feel wildly happy, elated at the simple pleasure of a stimulating conversation with one of your best gal pals, good food and drink, and the prospect of a day of fun and adventure, where there’s nothing on the agenda beyond brunch except letting yourself go where the day takes you.

Dang, I love Sundays.


*Cameron Art Museum