The Fine Art of Food
Yesterday, I went for brunch. It was a kind of spontaneous thing really. My neighbor called and said, “let’s go,” so we did. She is, you see, from Romania by way of Canada, and so she’s used to the buffet style brunches they have up north, in place like Toronto. Such all-you-can-eat food fests are rare in the wilds of Austin.
Brunch is sort of a weird thing. I mean, it’s not really lunch, not really breakfast, but an entirely separate gastrointestinal experience. It’s socially acceptable to drink with brunch-the people at the next table from us were having champaign-yet it’s still not quite lunch. It’s a great meal for people who can’t commit but just want to stuff their faces at some odd time of the morning. It’s a hybrid of foods taken at odd times, enjoyed slowly, best with friends in a comfortable setting.
She had called around to a few places, inquiring about the menu, and settled upon a place we’ve never heard of. The Mansion at Judge’s Hill, actually turned out to be quite spectacular. I had romaine lettuce with cheese in a Cesar dressing for starters, Earl Grey tea, Carribean style French toast with rum syrup and fresh pineapples and, for desert, coffee with Godiva white chocolate liquor and frangelico.
We said outside, on the porch of this “very Atlanta-looking” home/mansion and enjoyed the morning. It was close to 80 yesterday and quite pleasant, despite the fact that my neighbor really had her heart set on a buffet style brunch. I’ve since learned that Trudy’s offers such a buffet on Sunday and will try to schedule a time when we can all go for brunch there.
Funny thing about that too. I always seem to have migas at Trudy’s at like five am after having stayed up drinking. One would think that I would go to Trudy’s for brunch as a matter of course, but it slipped my mind. I never thought of Trudy’s as “a brunch place” despite the fact that I always seem to have eggs there anytime of the day or night. Go figure.
I can almost taste the migas as I type.
Until next time…