Sunday Brunch

One of those weird things.  Early last Sunday morning (way to early - an insomniac night) I read a post from a friend, cook and restaurateur that he was suspending brunch service until March.  That is sad - it's a bottom line boost.  Despite my own concerns (not to mention Bourdain's), about brunch in general, I am sure Steven knocks his out of the park.

But, despite my promise that on our next available "date" Trish and I will dine at Europa, brunch is not likely.

Sunday mornings are sacrosanct and almost ritualistic in nature. At eight the Today Show comes on.  Alison climbs the counter to get our special plates, assigned by design to each of us. Trish picks her off the counter and dances with her singing " A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes".  Trish cuts the bagels, I slice the onion (preferably red but plain yellow works fine).  After the local weather, the toasters get activated and I make the mimosas.  The kids Tang is ready.

Ellie gets a blueberry bagel - she doesn't do lox.  She takes about 2 hours to Spackle the cream cheese on.  The rest of us do everything bagels.  Alison takes a whole one - butter on one side cream cheese on the other - disgusting, but better since she stopped dunking it in orange juice.  Trish and I do it pretty much the same way, except I do capers. They are whole if we make them, open-faced if they are from Bagel Jay's. 

We toast: Cheers to new life and Bon Appétit. We added "and so it goes" after Vonnegut died, but have lost it.

9:00 if it's Sunday, It's Meet the Press.  10 another Mimosa and This Week.  We switch to Face the Nation at 10:30. PBS at 11 - we like Meacham and Stewart, but they don't hold our attention as much as Moyers, so we usually go up and Trish cuts my hair.

The we get on with the day.

So, Steven I wish you good luck when brunch resumes, and we will get there for dinner, but we just really enjoy this quality family "alone time".

And we giggle.