One of our family’s favorite treats is enjoying a breakfast out on the weekend. Over the years when going out for breakfast on a Saturday or Sunday morning I’ve observed many interesting characters and they seem to break down into the following basic categories:
Just trying to feed the crowd: Extended family is in town and they all go out to breakfast. Usually followed by fights over the bill at the completion of the meal (except in our family, in which case this doesn’t seem to occur for some reason.)
Just hooked up the night before: These are the folks who have that awkward “just met” aura about them who look like they… well, just hooked up the night before.
Just roared in: Those dressed in leather who came on their motorcycles.
Just rolled in: The sporty folks who came by bicycle. I have to admit, this is something I don’t get. If you’re wearing full-on biking attire and have been out working up a sweat on a miles long bike ride is showing up a restaurant really something you want to do? I acknowledge that a weekend breakfast is a casual meal, but I think we’ve taken casual a tad too far when we think it’s ok to “workout” and go dine with other folks, who..well, showered and aren’t wearing tight bike shorts. But maybe that's just me.
Just give us some peace and quiet: The empty nesters who are trying to enjoy a quiet, leisurely breakfast out and are hoping they don’t sit next to families with kids.
Just a weekend family breakfast aka Families with Kids: That’s us. The whole family troops in complete with an inordinate amount of gear for baby. Highchair cover, cold carrier with food/milk/juice, diaper bag, toys, etc. Teenager acts as helpful pack mule despite damage to his cool factor with a Petunia Picklebottom diaper bag slung over his shoulder. The table immediately gets completely rearranged to keep everything out of baby’s reach. We each get about a four inch square within which we must contain our plates, cups, utensils, etc. We attempt to keep the little guy occupied and quiet and enjoy breakfast. Generally speaking we have pretty good luck, though I will admit to the occasional sippy cup being hurled. He usually manages to miss the other diners.
It’s also interesting how when it comes to the choice of restaurant it breaks down into genders. The men seem to go for the food alone, no atmosphere, basic selection of food and big portions-- basically no nonsense. The women like the “foofy” places: cute atmosphere and more gourmet type selections. There’s a running joke in our family about my all time favorite breakfast place; it was in an old Victorian house, of course very nicely furnished and decorated and they offered quite innovative breakfast selections [my favorite was a poached egg in puff pastry with melted gruyere.] They served the best homemade scones, including a white chocolate rose petal scone (trust me, it was delicious). The joke is that the hubby didn’t like this place because they “didn’t serve toast”. I should clarify that; they served the previously aforementioned delicious scones (a choice between whatever two they had that day) instead of boring toast. Apparently, if you wanted an order of toast you could certainly have it, but it was $1.50 extra. Yeah, the hubby was not happy with that. Sadly, my all time favorite breakfast place closed down. Now every time we drive past the building the hubby says they wouldn’t have gone out of business if they’d just included toast.