I like breakfast a lot. Well, I like weekend breakfast a lot. Well, I specifically like eggs a lot. And usually you get to eat eggs at weekend breakfast (FTW!).
I actually didn’t really realize the egg deal until I got a Pinterest account and I noticed that I pinned an inordinate number of pictures with eggs in them. I have a whole theory about the things Pinterest will teach you about yourself, but that will have to be a whole separate post that someone requests.
Ok, back to the topic at hand. One of the reasons that I dig weekend breakfast is that it’s symbolic of the coziness of a Saturday or Sunday morning. You usually aren’t in rush and you can putter around your house with a coffee mug in hand and (in my case) the soft pitter-patter of feline feet following you from room to room.
Eventually, your tummy starts to grumble and you poke around the fridge. I pretty much always have eggs on hand… and then I just invent from there, turning some potatoes into hash browns, toasting some French bread from the night before, using up some odds and ends of cheese and vegetables. The whole thing is pretty carefree.
But in San Francisco, you do not make breakfast at home. You go to brunch. This city is obsessed with brunch. Even the really high-end places offer brunch menus and, no matter where you go, you better have made a reso a few days in advance or best be prepared to wait. A three-hour wait is not unheard of. Obsessed, I tell you.
Now, I am a dining out champion. I easily eat at restaurants three or four nights a week. But going out for brunch just adds a stress element to breakfast that I can take or leave. See also: I never quite got over some of the less-than-savory details about brunch revealed by Anthony Bourdain in his book, Kitchen Confidential.
There is a critical caveat to this whole “I’d rather make breakfast at home” philosophy. At brunch in a restaurant, they serve you booze. Yeah, sure, I have a liquor cabinet at home that I could dive into, but, even by my standards, mixing yourself a cocktail at 11 am feels a bit alcoholic. HOWEVER, ordering a cocktail from a waiter at that hour on a Saturday or Sunday feels totally legit. The way I see it, if I’ve been forced out of my jammies anyway, I might as well be drinking one.
My brunch drink of choice? A Bloody Mary, of course. (Is there any other?). I prefer mine nice and spicy. And for extra credit, load that thing up with every imaginable garnish. It’s just enough to make me enjoy brunch out (a little).
If, like me, you’re into making an awesome breakfast creation on your own this weekend, here are a few great options:
- Kale and prosciutto breakfast pizza, topped with a baked egg and parmesan
- Chilaquiles with scrambled eggs, black beans, and salsa
- Braided pastry baked around eggs scrambled with sausage, jack cheese, and jalapeños
- Ricotta herb soufflé