Dear Brunch,

A while back, you were just a late breakfast.  Then maybe a quiche or a simple salad in addition.  Waffles if one really went wild.  Now, there are wasabi-encrusted salmon fritters with chinchilla berries, buckwheat-semolina-semi-freddo cherry froth on an escarole blini.  My daughter, age 7, asked why I wasn’t serving squid i its own ink with the brunch today.  Brunch, I am sorry this world is so complicated.

I am sorry we all got carried away.  You were there for me as a kid, then in college and in those heady New York days of brunch outside with [name of guy here] when we [name of funny incident here] and ultimately when that ended and Jess/Nicole/Liz and I would reconvene for more brunch to discuss.  Oh, brunch, you fabulous creature spanning two parts of the day.

To make it up to you, I’m going back to basics.

Behold, A Bloat of Bagels.

And toppings of smoked salmon, capers, red onion, cream cheese, or, for those who favor the sweet, homemade jam.

I love you, Brunch.

Always,

Em