A better brunch is possible

Was brunch started in Vancouver? Certainly not. But it sometimes feels like the city perfected it.

Long lines snaking out into the street. Overpriced dishes that are easily made at home. A certain type of clientele, the Lululemon-adorned, backwards hat-wearing types.

(Apologies to readers wearing either item. If it makes you feel any better, my hat is also backwards and my Lululemon clothes are hanging to dry).

A few spots in the city bear the brunt of the weekend brunch clientele. Cafe Media, Jam Cafe, you know the names and see the crowds. Meeting up with friends at one of these spots entails an hour-long wait. Inevitably complaints ensue. Should we go somewhere else? Well, we’ve already waited 30 minutes. But that’s okay, you know you’ve got nothing else to do. 

It’s a location to be seen and see others. A feeling that once that overpriced mimosa hits the table, the weekend can truly begin. It’s not so much about the food, but an admission of victory, that your mind-numbing job is over, that time can be taken in the morning instead of the inevitable rush to work. 

Brunch, the fancy egg and toast meal, is a reclamation of the time we have to devote to the week. We replace the mad rush to get out the door to our jobs with a slow crawl to the brunch line. Eater writer Jaya Saxena noted that the meal has its history in an after-church experience. The modern version, of praying all week long for our bosses to ignore us, requires a break. 

“The idea of a long, lingering, midday meal is still pretty alien in American society,” she writes. Canada is no different. For most people, breakfast is a quick egg McMuffin, microwavable oats, and slapdash scrambled eggs, as we pray we don’t miss the bus to work. Slowing down is a weekend experience, a time to try and elevate our boring breakfast into something more. 

All of this was made clear to me as I looked around during a brunch trip I made to Their There, at 2042 W 4th Ave. in Kitsilano. Being one person means it’s easy to get a table. Anyone else? The growing line told the story. 

Everyone was what you’d expect. A couple next to me asked for mimosas, and if they could hold off on a certain ingredient. A group behind me talked about what beach to visit. Post-yoga visitors with their mats rolled up underneath them. The hardest choice was debilitating internalized debate over the consistency of poached eggs.  

The coffee was what you’d expect. A smooth, perfectly fine cortado, presented in a finely grey speckled mug that would be home in a pottery shop. I’m sure there are a few of these shops in Kitsilano.

That isn’t to say Their There wasn’t a good meal. On the contrary. The weekend special cassoulet popped with flavour, as chunks of deep-red tomato sauce absorbed the flavour of the meat after a long time stewing. Thick cut focaccia was sprinkled with browned sesame seeds having come straight from the toaster. Frankly, I’d hardly call it brunch.

Yet looking around, tables were laden full of egg benedicts and pancakes, and crystal flutes of lightly orange mimosas. It was a testament to the image of brunch that people wished to project to themselves and friends, a simple statement that “I am doing brunch right.” Queue the heaping pile of French toast.

From my experience, brunch people aren’t seeking out the food. Rather, for a brief period of time, responsibilities that follow us Monday through Friday disappear. The mundane egg breakfast is transformed into something different. But the main difference is that time is spent waiting, eating and relaxing with friends. It’s a brief respite from responsibilities. Deep down, I think that’s what people crave. It’s why waiting in line isn’t such a big deal.

Anthony Bourdain’s criticism of brunch in Kitchen Confidential is legendary. A generation of people absorbed his ravings, that brunch is worthy of ridicule, the food is forgettable and the experience for everyone, both chefs and customers, is awful. 

Less noticed was an interview he gave to the Hollywood Reporter. In it, he said his favourite weekend activity is, after napping, going out for a long lunch. His fellow interviewee, a big company executive, questioned why he didn’t get up and do something. Typical suit. 

Bourdain responded incredulously, “that’s work.”

Bourdain’s slow, long lunch and his simple response is what people around me at Their There were seeking, a feeling of time stopping, devoid of work, a long easy morning with no emails or deliverables. Waiting in line is a statement, I have no responsibilities and nothing better to do. 

The idea of brunch, at least what we in North America partake in, is a foreign concept to the world. Time and energy aren’t put into the breakfast meal in Italy or France, there’s no hour-long food lines. A sweet pastry, a nice cappuccino, and then you continue on with your relaxing day.

These countries have perfected the art of slowing down, taking their time and enjoying the company of others, without hollandaise-soaked eggs or long lines. 

Our culture, of hustling, waking up early, putting in the time, is all done to hopefully, at least in Vancouver, afford the lifestyle we’re told we need to have. We may never be able to afford that home, but goddammit, I can at least eat like and behave like we can. 

All of this is not meant to criticize those who seek out the feeling brunch entails. God knows everyone needs a break. Our lives are defined by the time we spend working. Why shouldn’t we deserve a little break, a little weekend treat, with a splash of champagne?

But in a city brimming with diverse culinary options that any other city would envy, we can and should do better than waiting an hour outside for cold eggs and congealed hollandaise sauce, no matter how dressed up they appear. 

While you might indeed have to wait a few minutes for Dim Sum at Dynasty Seafood Restaurant, you’ll be treated to crispy, sweet sesame balls with jet-black, runny sesame filling. Crispy, fresh snow pea tips. Perfectly cooked shrimp dumplings. A memorable meal. 

Or you could pick up a few croissants from one of Vancouver’s many excellent bakeries, a quick to-go coffee, and meet your friends at the park. Beats standing in line. 

What about a morning trip to Richmond’s Presidents Plaza, to Cha Kee for a $9 Hong Kong-style egg sandwich, an authentic breakfast that will make you embarrassed to spend $30 for brunch?

By 11:30, most weekend restaurants are already open. Instead of eggs, try a Florencian Schiacciata sandwich, like the Bacco with seared tenderloin, red wine mayonnaise, buffalo Glera cheese, arugula and caramelized onions, from Fiorino. At $21, I can promise it’s a better meal than french toast.

Brunch isn’t so much a meal, but a moment in time when we can control our day. A period reclaims our lives from the schedule, inevitably work, set by others. It’s a time we define, whether to meet with friends, to slow down or experience a morning we’d love to have every single day. 

Life is short. Seek out those periods of rest, because we all deserve it. Do what Bourdain did, slow down, enjoy the time, and for goodness sake, don’t wait in line for mediocre eggs.