So I know brunch is brunch is brunch, right? Everyone loves this marvelous mash-up meal. Sleep in, brunch your way into the afternoon, then consider a nap. Take it, friends. Take the nap. It’s Sunday, Sabbath-day.
Not to mention the fact that the food is everything anyone ever cared about combined into one meal. Mimosas at any hour + every amazing sweet breakfast pastry + a salad if you feel like it. My three main food groups.
But in L.A., I feel like people really love brunch. Like, it is a regular, glamorous thing that people do. Maybe more so than in the Midwest. I try and do brunch as often as possible on my own terms, like this recent one which included a pannekoeken/dutch baby. (I had been waiting to try one forever. They really are a cinch to make, and they look so impressive, all puffed up like a pastry peacock.)
But omword did I really enjoy a few restaurant brunches while on vaca. Including:
Ranunculus and San Pellegrino (because this is L.A.) and a prosciutto and Gruyère croissant.
And even this bread pudding. I know. Just stop.
And once even crepes, my true love.
But always coffee.