When I was younger, my family rarely did breakfast all together; on weekdays we were all rushing around, and on weekends we would all emerge from our rooms at our own times, grazing on whatever acceptable breakfast food was around. For many years, breakfast on Saturday meant spending the entire morning alone on the couch, watching cartoons, dodging my mother's attempts to make me a productive citizen, and eating sugary cereal with abandon. Occasionally, we would have guests and my mother would cook some traditional Indian breakfast items - dosa, roti, upma, etc. - and we would have brunch. But these days were usually paired with pre and post cleaning and formal clothing, so while we loved the company, the whole situation was no bueno.
It wasn't until I got to college that I really understood brunch. On our campus, Landon dining hall had the most amazing brunch you can imagine - everything from ice cream to omelettes to fresh fruit and berries was represented, and you could literally eat your heart out. In addition to that, we lived in close proximity to Golden Harvest, a small brunch area in Lansing that has a following that borders on obsessive. In East Lansing, brunch does not just pass you by, and from the minute I stepped into Landon, with a slight headache and stomache, craving grease and comfort food, I was a convert.
Brunch is neither breakfast nor lunch; it's an in between meal, and as such, doesn't have the conventions of the other two. You can enjoy some giggle juice with brunch. You can dip strawberries in chocolate and throw it on a waffle with sugar and it won't count as dessert. You can show up all smelly at your best friend's house at eleven o'clock, post late wake up call and workout, demand eggs, toast, and avocados, and call THAT brunch.
You can wake up at eight AM and race to Golden Harvest, wait in line for over an hour and a half in the freezing cold, and earn your brunch. Or you can have a lie in at home and make yourself some waffles or toast and watch television, and it could be the most lovely brunch you'll ever have.
Brunch is the most welcoming of the meals.
Brunch is patient, brunch is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Brunch does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Brunch never fails.*
Brunch is love, y'all. Show someone a little love and pan fry some potatoes and throw a poached egg on top. Give yourself a little treat and stick an overeasy fried egg in a sandwhich with some mixed greens and tomatoes. Use avocado liberally, and consider experimenting with sriracha and truffle oil. Kale and white sugar are both invited to this party, because brunch does not discriminate.
Let your creative juices and chocolate sauce flow; brunch is a meal without protocol or limitations, and you definitely deserve that business in your life.
*I took some creative licenses with Corinthians 13:4-8a. I did it with utmost respect for the original verse.