With a brunch, of course.

Brunch is like the most wonderful meal invented. Ever! By skipping breakfast, you get to lounge in bed, and watch cartoons while the laundry is spinning in the machine. By pre-empting lunch, you kinda bypass the after-lunch stupor. Brunch is like an indulgent breakfast that you get to eat like a full lunch. It’s a leisurely and informal meal, perfect for a leisurely and informal day.

Brunch, to me is also about company. Whether it’s catching up on the latest gossip over dim sum, or sitting down for wantan mee with a friend you haven’t met in a decade, brunch certainly allows you to take your time meeting and eating with family and friends.

One great way to have brunch is to have a simple meal at a friend’s place, like I did last Sunday. Spot and Snowie were kind enough to call me over to have jaffles. Now I’m a not a big fan of bread myself, but damn, toast it with copious amounts of butter and I’m sold! Of course, Spot’s jaffles were superb. Can’t go wrong by stuffing them with sausages. And mushrooms. And homemade caramelised/vinegared onions (gotta ask her what that’s called). And Snowie made mushroom soup as well. And pancakes! And, lifesavers as they were, they had coffee (I can’t function without it, really).

Spot and Snowie's beautiful brunch

The great thing about brunching at home is that you can really take your own sweet time, chatting and chewing and swallowing and chatting some more; you’re free to pass all sorts of remarks whether it’s about dead persons getting an unholy amount of TV time, or about blonde, busty actresses who really really really want to shoot a Playboy cover (for the second time); you can get comfortably vertical if you want (and don’t we all want). And before you know it, the breakfast that was also lunch has drawn out into tea. We call it “brunt” – breakfast, lunch and tea, adding up to make the forceful weight of a Sunday that had been nibbled away.

Yeah, you could say I don’t have much of a life. “Not happening”, as the locals would say it. But really, that’s the whole point of Sundays, isn’t it?