The Privilege of Being Brunchable: there’s no ‘I’ in brunch
By: A. Eiser October 5, 2023

What is brunch? It is not breakfast, nor lunch, nor supper, nor snack, nor any other meal belonging to a day. Instead of eating breakfast and lunch, you smoosh the two together, gobble something in late morning or early afternoon and call it “brunch.” Invite someone to brunch and the assumption will be that you’re making plans for a Sunday, perhaps Saturday. We can’t be blamed, entirely, as a culture for narrowing the definition of brunch to basically mean a weekend, boozy extravaganza with lavish nibbles upon which are perched perfectly cooked eggs with runny golden yolks. It’s no surprise that some historians believe brunch was born of the British pre-hunt breakfast; both are traditionally monstrous meals with sweet and savory plates to please any palate. But they have something else in common other than their extravagant menus. Perhaps you’ll never guess what it is so I’ll simply have to tell you: it’s the privilege associated with being able to partake. If you brunch regularly, you might not see it as a privilege. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you: but you should. On a recent Sunday morning, I flexed my privilege and treated my bestie to brunch at Tolon. Of the myriad excellent restaurants serving brunch on the weekends in Fort Wayne, it’s my opinion that Tolon is one of the absolute most delicious–though expensive–options. Offering their brunch menu only on Sundays between the hours of ten and two, scoring brunch at this spot is a privilege, obviously. The food is exquisite and service is impeccable, but privilege is a double entendre: such an experience is outside many peoples’ ability to afford or even attend.

Even in Fort Wayne, a city that really doesn’t hold its pinkies in the air, weekend brunches can be expensive. My brunch was over $100 for two diners. Worth it? I certainly think so. But to have the funds to spend on brunch is ultimately a privilege. I’d eat a Croque Madame at Bistro Noto every Sunday if my bank account allowed it, but I don’t have that kind of cash. That’s not to say that every brunch menu in Fort Wayne has price-tags to make your eyes pop. Au contraire: we are gifted with countless options that, to many, may seem entirely reasonable and affordable. I mean, you’ve heard of Mercado, right? Some bomb avocado toast with an egg will run you $13.50 and totally fill up your belly. But, prices add up. Factor in tip: if you’re dishing out anything under than–at bare minimum–20% for Sunday brunch, you are basically dead to me. If we brunchers have disposable income to spend on deliciously fanciful brunch items, we certainly have enough money to fairly tip the brunch angels taking care of us. (And the human decency to treat them with respect, but that’s a whole other article.) Yes, brunch can be pricey. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if you’re popping into somewhere downtown like Mercado, Proximo, Dash-In, or Hoppy Gnome: you will have delicious brunch and you will be exercising your privilege as you do so.

I recently invited someone out for brunch and she had to turn me down. Not because she didn’t want to go, and not because she didn’t have sufficient funds, but–get this, dear reader–she has children. She can’t just drop everything and have brunch just because I asked nicely. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter if you ask in advance; not everyone has the ability to simply rearrange their lives. Consider the narrowest definition of brunch you can muster: Sunday morning between, let’s say, ten and two. There’s a whole bracket of people who will never in their adult working lives experience brunch by that definition. Prime example: the saints who sweat and toil to make brunch happen. On the flipside of our “time as a privilege” coin, let’s discuss how having the luxury of time to waste waiting in line before you even enjoy brunch is–you guessed it–a privilege. There are only so many hours in a day. While Beyoncé seems to make magic out of all twenty-four, I’m lucky if I can find the time to do basic human functions. The miracle is you don’t have to waste time waiting when it comes to brunch. Many restaurants take what is referred to in the industry as a reservation. If you haven’t heard the word before, a reservation is this beautiful technique of, essentially, diners and restaurants mutually respecting each other's time. The diner says, “I’ll be in for my meal at this specific time on this specific date.” With luck, the restaurant says, “Great! We’ll see you then.” They both wait in eager anticipation for the date to arrive and when the blessed day comes: the restaurant serves brunch, the diner devours it like a rabid gremlin, they pay for their meal and tip the server extraordinarily generously, and then everyone hugs and cries and sings a chorus of All The Small Things by Blink182. Going through life brunching without reservations is a huge flex of privilege–but having a steady enough schedule to make reservations days in advance is a privilege, too. No matter how you slice it, time is every bit as much a privilege as money.

The bad news is that brunch and privilege are inseparable. But the great news is that if you have brunch privilege, you have a superpower. Use your privilege. Transform brunch into an any-day-of-the-week meal that brings people in your community together: united in faction, in fun, and in food. Brunch shouldn’t be about the what, the where, or the when. The most important thing about brunch should be who you’re sharing it with. Obviously, I’d be lying if I said the what–the food–was unimportant; but we have access to so much dope cuisine in and around Fort Wayne. Choose what works for you and call it brunch. The where and the when are trivial. Is someone in your life bummed that they can’t get to Fort Wayne for the pre-ordained sacred Sunday brunch hours? Junk Ditch serves up a brilliant brunch Saturday or Sunday from ten to four in Fort Wayne and Huntington, giving even more opportunities to brunch exquisitely. Are weekends a no-go? Ophelia’s offers a luxe brunching atmosphere every day but Monday. Draft Taproom & Coffee is only closed Monday and Tuesday: that means every other day of the week, we as a community have access to relatively affordable brunchy Legalize Marinara pizzas, locally crafted wines and beers, and an array of enticing N/A drinks. We’re the city who hosts Brunch on Barr during the summer: a brunching food truck rally. When it comes to brunch, we’ve already begun to expand the definition and accept alternative brunching solutions–but let’s crank the brunchability up a notch. Pop into Penny Drip for a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese with Pickles on a whim any day of the week and try to tell me that’s not brunchable. Have a ‘light brunch’ at GK Cafe on a Wednesday; what’s more brunchy than a hotdog wrapped in a croissant! Meet up in the parking lot of Waffle Station, eat in your car, and call it a ‘brunch date.’ Turn your own kitchen table into a brunching extravaganza for your nearest and dearest: bagels and schmears from Shop260, charcuterie from Rowdy Rooster Artisan Meats, and May Family Microgreens to dress it up pretty and get some vitamins. Be grateful for the incredible brunching opportunities that are available to us in Fort Wayne every single day of the week: share them with friends, families, coworkers, strangers on the street. Let’s redefine the privilege of being brunchable so that it’s no longer about what we can afford or the time we have to waste. Make it about the time and money we can invest in each other to strengthen our community. Afterall, there’s no ‘I’ in brunch.