Unsolicited Endorsement: The decadence of brunch

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by Anthony Harrison

A friend of mine once commented, “Breakfast isn’t breakfast if it doesn’t make you want to go back to sleep.”

Weekend brunches seem to reflect that goal.

For one thing, they’re on the weekend. It’s given — even granted by god, if you’re religious — that Saturday especially reserves itself as a day of rest. What’s better than waking up, bleary-eyed and groggy after a Friday night of splashing red paint everywhere with your friends, to tromp over to a brunch place and share in your collective misery by consuming earthly delights?

Secondly, the food is typically tremendously rich, and that’s right up my alley. Just thinking off the top of my head of the brunches I’ve had around Greensboro, I fondly remember the Iron Hen Café’s smoked-salmon omelet with goat cheese and scallions, the Mad Hatter’s chicken and pancakes, and Print Works Bistro’s steak and poached eggs with home fries. Every meal I had was utterly decadent and scrumptious.

Third, there’s the idea of brunch cocktails. Mimosas prove time and time again to be a surefire, temporary cure for the harshness of the morning sun. And I’m not sure if I’ve ever had a bloody Mary that was a bad idea.

Again, the Mad Hatter comes to mind. They feature a whole menu of specialty bloody Marys made with many potent potables. I’ve opted for the Rye’s and Shine: rye whiskey in the mix, garnished with olives, celery, an orange wedge, a slice of bacon and a beef straw along with a sidecar of Shiner Bock, because when you’re going out to brunch, you might as well go big or go home.

The question of which of the three steady meals is truly the best can be left up to debate. Some people like dinner; others like breakfast; some weirdos like lunch. But that’s as far as it goes in my book.

Nothing beats brunch.

After all, once you’re done with a weekend brunch, you can slink back home, slip under your covers and take a nap without guilt or qualm.

To me, that is a damn fine idea for a meal.