Reading Vogue, as the Bottomless Bros often do, we stumbled across an article so offensive, so scandalous, that we had no choice but to share it with you, our dear readers. The writer, Emma Specter, asked, "What If We Left Brunch in the Pre-Pandemic Era?" The short answer, of course, is "no," and we'd like to leave it there, but a take this hot is calling out for attention, and frankly, we fell for it. Let's take a look at some of the more incendiary arguments that made their way into Vogue, and more importantly, why they're terrible:
I’m overjoyed to be able to gather indoors with my friends again, but when one of them suggested an Easter brunch at her apartment, I balked. Not because of the religious connotations—I’m Jewish, but I love celebrating any food-centric holiday—or the stress of socializing again, but simply because the word brunch immediately struck fear into my heart. It’s been over a year since I made my way into a stuffy, overcrowded restaurant to eat rubbery omelets and chug down the obligatory bottomless mimosas, and to be honest...I don’t miss it.
Have you considered going to better restaurants? Or ordering better food? We sense you've made some poor choices in your life and are taking them out on brunch.
While I would give anything to magically snap back to pre-COVID society, our new era will undoubtedly call for some reexamination of social norms ... I hope that some of my crowd anxiety recedes and my joie de vivre returns as the threat of the pandemic lessens. But there are some things I’m more than happy to dispense with forever, and waiting in line (in line! The indignity!) for potatoes and eggs I could have made at home is definitely one of them.
Again with the eggs! If you don't like eggs, don't order eggs!
I'm far from the first or only person to hate brunch; Anthony Bourdain himself called it "a horrible, cynical way of unloading leftovers and charging three times as much as you ordinarily charge for breakfast," and many chefs famously work brunch as a last resort.
We've also read Kitchen Confidential, but you don't see us bragging about it.
As a former employee of a seafood restaurant with a weekend brunch special, I can confirm that nothing turns Brooklyn adults into whiny, shrieking toddlers faster than the idea that they might not get to enjoy their waffles and Bloody Marys at an outdoor table.
Of course this is about Brooklyn; the self-absorption makes sense now.
There were stories written about brunch hating as early as 2014, as well as 30 Rock jokes about the phenomenon way back in 2012, and I fully acknowledge that detesting brunch—or anything, really—is not a personality.
Imagine the promise of a Sunday without brunch: You get up at whatever hour pleases you, pour yourself some coffee and cereal in the privacy of your own home, read the paper, take a shower, and eventually make your way over to your friend’s house or an outdoor restaurant for a U.K.-style Sunday roast.
I’m not an anti-breakfast-food hard-liner by any means—I am a warm-blooded mortal, after all—and I truly can’t wait to make Julia Turshen’s everything-bagel hand pies for my friends this Easter Sunday.
If you refuse to take my advice and insist on heading out for an Easter brunch this year, don’t forget to tip at least 20%. (Sorry to be preachy, but if you can’t afford the tip, you can’t afford the meal!)