A good Sunday conversation-starter in Buzzy’s Country Store is “Well, where did you go to breakfast this morning?” Seems that Sunday morning breakfast has become the new religion even if folks don’t go to Church anymore. Personally, I have nothing against going out for Sunday morning breakfast, but my preferred m.o. is to fix my own and laze around the shack.
However, I do confess that there is a part of me that agrees with this author’s take on the whole Sunday breakfast/brunch thing as being a rather “down” experience
Most of my friends and colleagues are going to give me a hard time about this, but here goes: I hate brunch. There, I said it. Now hear me out. In New York, where I live, brunch is a great tradition (second only to walking extremely fast). On Saturdays and Sundays, Big Apple sidewalks are filled with bleary-eyed locals and tourists waiting and waiting and waiting. And for what? Eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, and orange juice–items that every breathing human should know how to prepare. So that’s the number one reason I don’t go out for brunch: I can make it at home and then eat it in the nude if I want. Also, brunch food is often mediocre. Why? The staff doesn’t want to be there. The waiters are hung over, and the chef is just biding time till he can concentrate on dinner service. And, finally, I hate brunch menu markup. It’s funny; the same folks who complain about a place that overcharges for wine or a burger in the evening don’t even consider the outrageous cost of brunch. Eggs aren’t expensive, so why are you going to restaurants that charge you two bucks for one sunny-side up? (from click here.)
A recent Washington Post article noted that from the restaurant’s perspective, Sunday Brunch can be a big “pita” for them too (click here.)