It's been over two months since Richmond Brunch Weekend happened! Honestly, we've been dieting ever since due to all those mimosas and omelets eaten Saturday and Sunday.
But we want to thank you all for coming out and supporting the first ever Richmond Brunch Weekend! In total, we had 24 restaurants participate and raised over $11,000 that will all go back to VCU Massey Cancer Center. We think these are awesome figures for our inaugural event, and we can't wait to plan for the Second Annual Richmond Brunch Weekend!
Of course, none of this would have been possible without you - our dedicated readers and brunchers - and also all of the restaurants, their staffs, and our sponsors. We also have to thank our partners, the Massey Alliance. An event like this can't happen without many chefs in the kitchen.
We look forward to serving you up more mimosas, more waffles, and more omelets in 2017, all while fighting cancer! To stay up-to-date, subscribe to our blog below and/or like us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter and Instagram, and like Richmond Brunch Weekend's Facebook page!
Once upon a spring, a friend went on a date. Their date fulfilled many checkboxes: attractive, employed, and competent. They went on several more dates. Soon after their seventh date, they experienced a hiatus. Multiple days later, the date phoned to talk. “It’s not you,” they reassured my friend, “but I’m not feeling it.”
Neither was my friend, but my friend wasn’t going to call up and say that.
Plus, it’s never us. It’s always them. That’s the oldest trick in the manual.
When people ask me what’s my favorite food, one of my top five dishes are Thai drunken noodles. I always joked that if a Thai restaurant did brunch, I’d be in heaven. Lo and behold, that’s not a joke or pipe dream anymore: My Noodle and Bar launched their new brunch menu during none other than our flagship event, Richmond Brunch Weekend.
What’s more clichéd than saying you’re addicted to coffee? It seems every person who holds down some sort of a job or responsibility, and who likes to stop at Dunkin’ on the way, says they have a coffee addiction.
A while ago I met a girl. When we met she had a boyfriend, but the next time we ran into each other she was single. We found ourselves alone at a party. I asked for her number.
On our first and only date, I learned she didn’t drink beer like me. Our last names began with the same letter. We grew up in neighboring cities. We enjoyed reading true life tales of terror.
I have always been frank that I don’t know what my future holds. I will finish my PhD this year. I don’t even know what job sector I will seek a career in, let alone if I will stay in the country. The only thing I do know is that I don’t want to settle down. At least I don’t think I do.
Then as we closed in on the car, we looked at each other and said, "Brunch!?" Coming off the back of Richmond Brunch Weekend, I find myself wanting to still support all of the restaurants who participated, but I also visualized myself at LuLu's and couldn't shake that I needed to be there.
I pointed us down 17th street, across Broad and into a PACKED LuLu's. I saw the Richmond Brunch Weekend Kick-off chair as soon as we walked in and yell-whispered, "How long is the wait?" And he said he always sat at the bar. I nodded, quickly thinking we'd need to head to my brunch staple, On the Rox soon. I was famished and not trying to play around with the waiting nonsense.
A few weeks ago, I got invited to a networking event. For the first hour, there would be an open bar. Of course, there was no liquor, which is my weapon of choice, but red wine would do. I needed to meet people.
The end of the hour drew near. I made my way back to the bar. The bartender had gone missing, but I noticed two glasses by the register—a glass of red and a glass of white.
A friend drew my attention. By the time the conversation ended, the hour had passed. The bartender asked for my credit card. I spotted the two glasses still there.
I am a Starbucks aficionado. This is no secret. I have been a Gold Card-holding member since I exited the womb. And my membership doesn’t expire until Trump ends his presidency.
I love to collect stars. That’s the points you collect for drinking overpriced coffee. Every 125 stars, I get a free beverage. And it can be anything. My typical order is a $3.26 iced venti Americano with blonde espresso and light soy. When it’s a reward, I order a milkshake made with almond milk and two pumps hazelnut, five pumps millennial.
When it’s a Double Star Day, I’m there. Every month Gold Card-carrying members are designated a day where whatever they order earns them two times the normal number of stars. Again, we’re trying to get to 125 so we can order a free drink that is made of myrrh and gasoline at summer prices.
After months of planning, posting, eating and walking from door-to-door of over 40 restaurants (that last one was all Cazey), it's FINALLY Richmond Brunch Weekend. The only box left to check at this point is heading out to brunch on Saturday and Sunday, and we want you to join us! Not only will 15 percent of your order will go back to local cancer research at VCU Massey Cancer Center, but you might even win the ultimate Richmond prize package.
Intrigued? Here's how to win at Richmond Brunch Weekend:
My childhood was not particularly ethnic. I grew up in middle class suburbia and went to affluent public schools. We got Chinese takeout, and I was ignorant enough to probably think all Asian food tasted the same back then. I don’t think I ate sushi until college. Even then, I ate it thinking I was a James Dean rebel eating raw fish with the similar gusto of a health inspector’s son ordering a rare steak (my dad is a health inspector).
In college, I learned that Thai is my preferred Asian cuisine. My family came around to this conclusion, too. Maybe Thai food just didn’t exist in Virginia Beach in the Bush and Clinton years. However, as much as I loved Thai food, I never tried Thai iced tea.
The week I was supposed to go to France, an article about my old favorite TV show, “Lost,” popped up in my Facebook feed. The article reflected on an episode that premiered a decade before and centered on time travel—a popular theme for “Lost” if you were a fan. In particular, the article mentioned the difficulty in writing the episode because time travel presents several paradoxes that either must be assumed impossible or else time travel must be assumed impossible.
The Grandfather Paradox stuck with me – essentially, you must believe there are certain truths that cannot be altered by time travel. For instance, you can’t kill your grandfather (before at least your parent is born), or else you forfeit your own existence, but you can’t not exist if you are the one changing your own future.