Friday, April 6, 2012

Fancy Brunch

Last night Mr. Steady and I were laying in bed chatting.  He asked what plans we had for Easter and I responded, "I wish there was someplace that still served brunch."  Now I know I don't need to explain the difference between men & women to you and women view food and food experiences very differently.

Mr. Steady responded by reminding me that most places serve breakfast all day and I could probably order off either menu I wanted.  I launched into a homily which he has heard probably 72 times in the years we've been married about my fond remeberance of Sunday brunches as a child. 
Dayton's best kept secret in the late 1980's-early 1990's was the Magnolia Place on one of the upper floors of Miami Valley Hospital.  Yes, the hospital.  It's hard to get friends and family to join you for Sunday brunch at the hospital.  But once they did, they thanked you immensely.  I think my mom accidentally found out about The Magnolia Place when my grandfather was admitted.  After that we went to the hospital for brunch several times a year.  Always for Easter and Mother's Day.  They had a carving station with ham and roast beef, a Belgian waffle station, an omelet station, each manned by men with giant billowing chef hats.  I remember the plethora of desserts, puddings served in stemmed glasses with a cloud of whipped cream on top, orange and apple juice fountains (this was well before anyone had ever heard of a chocolate fountain).  It was pure elegance to an elementary school girl who lived on a farm and ate tuna salad on toast on the off-Sundays.  A bank of windows streamed in delicious sunlight and we sat in our Sunday best (I'm certain even though I was in 6th grade my mom still made me wear lace anklets and black patent leather shoes that my dad had rubbed with Vaseline until they shined the night before), dining on white tablecloths, stuffing ourselves to our heart's content.

THIS is the experience I had in mind when I mentioned brunch to Mr. Steady.   He said, "Brunch is just for people who sleep in too late but can't wait an hour for lunch so they go out, order breakfast at 10:30 and say 'Oooooo, I'm faaaaaancy',"  And if you know Mr. Steady in real life, you do not need much of an imagination to hear him saying that last part in his best Southern belle voice.

I got lost in a fit of giggles.  THIS is why I love this man so much, he makes me laugh like no one else can.  Even if he will never understand a girls need for a true proper brunch.  We laughed and laughed over this in the dark.

I am SO glad I married this man.  Now I'm still in search of Easter brunch.  With white tablecloths and stemmed juice glasses please.  My man needs some fancy in his life.