I’m 27 years old and I’ve finally admitted to myself: I hate brunch

The Brunch. At this time of year it lurks on every corner. Actually, the people around me always want to have brunch. Brunch has become a popular pastime and weekend activity.

It doesn’t matter when brunch starts: for me it always comes at the wrong time. I hate brunch Now it’s over. Just the word. Brunch. The name is completely arbitrary. A neologism of “breakfast” and “lunch”.

Don’t get me wrong, I like to party. Sometimes you could even speak of gluttony. But there’s something uneasy about brunch for me.

This tirade at the beginning of the year is not about the cozy «Zmörgele» at home. It’s about the ritual visit to a restaurant on Saturday or Sunday morning, where you fight with what feels like 300 other insomniacs for the waiter’s attention or the best spot at the buffet.

There are several challenges before and during brunch. The first sticking point is before the actual brunch. In which restaurant can you still reserve a table? It feels like every city dweller loves brunch. And the people from the agglomeration too. Depending on the season, it’s almost impossible to get a seat if you don’t book months in advance.

When you finally find a place that doesn’t have a table for the rank and file, the following problem arises. When is the ideal time to have brunch together? Apparently opinions differ. 10 hours? 11 hours? Or only at 12:30?

The question of time poses another problem. Depending on the situation, the hunger is already there before you get on the tram or bus. I prefer to eat something small. But I can’t, because then the thought plagues me that I must be hungry because I have to pay at least 50 francs for the brunch buffet in town.

A tightrope walk.

Usually I don’t eat anything, but drink three coffees. Then the feeling of hunger in the stomach is drowned out by inertia. Not the best way, but so far I haven’t found a more convincing alternative.

The terrible price of about 50 francs for brunch brings me to the next point. I am not a stingy person. But my stomach immediately makes a stop sign when I want to enjoy the delicacies from the buffet. I’m not a breakfast person anyway. Even less on weekends: Inexplicably, my stomach stops working in the morning. Two slices of bread and some scrambled eggs are always included. Then there is low in the shaft.

My brain then switches to calculation mode: “50 francs … So for this money you should have at least one croissant, two spoons of Bircher muesli, three eggs, four pancakes, a wholemeal roll, two slices of salmon, 40 grams of Camembert, two slices Gruyère and a piece of home-made apple pie. Otherwise you’ll make a cheeky min.”

I then stand calmly at the buffet, but my stomach and my brain are in a crisis that is about to have repercussions on an international level. Usually I let my stomach win. This is usually the least risky option. If the stomach wins with its warnings, I’m hungry again two hours after the 50-franc brunch. You win some you lose some.

I’ll be honest with you: it also happens that I indulge in gluttony and want to get the 50 francs out. My friends always do the same to me. Then we all sit in this bar and imagine how nice it would be to sit on the couch at home with full bellies.

But nobody says that.

It is uncertain when brunch will end. Will it end at all? You don’t have this problem when you go out for dinner with friends. Eventually you get tired and everyone goes to bed. After brunch, everyone is tired and longing for a nap, but it’s only noon.

These are the reasons why I don’t like brunch. Some of you will identify with me and be happy with the diatribe. Others just like to get up early on weekends and sit for hours in crowded and overpriced restaurants. This is good.

Source: Blick