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!
Richmond has been put on the map lately for all of our breweries that have popped over the years. However, we’ve become a city (and state) with so much more to offer. That’s what Cider Week VA celebrates.
We had the pleasure of getting a little taste of what to expect from Cider Week Virginia 2018, which is coming up from November 9-18, 2018. Here’s what’s going down.
Every board member is encouraged to do a fundraiser, and I wanted mine to be unique. Month ago, my friend raved about a flower arranging class she went to at Bridget Beari Home Store. She couldn’t stop talking about the beautiful store, informative class, beautiful flowers and awesome workshop leader.
Just like in the cartoons, a light bulb went off over my head. A flower arranging workshop would be a fun fundraiser (aka fun-draiser). I immediately reached out to Bridget Beari to see if they had any interest in working with me, to which they quickly said they’d be happy to help.
I recently had to plan a dinner for an important figurehead at my university. At the last minute some seats opened up so I asked my friend Liza to come. Liza and I have been close friends for several years.
My other friend, Peter, signed up weeks before and usually was at these sorts of functions anyway. Liza knew less of the people so she stuck by my side at the beginning of the dinner. When Peter arrived, I introduced them. Soon Liza spotted another acquaintance and slipped away to chat.
Since 2005, I have committed a few faux pas on Facebook. I don’t think my sins will ever approach the gracelessness of a middle-aged mother on Facebook (that’s a jab at my own), but I am not some beacon of social media poise. I have accidentally poked, unintentionally shared, and once even tagged myself in a stranger’s profile picture. That last blunder may be most embarrassing moment – until last week.
I have known “Phil” for several years. We share the same friendship circle, see each other monthly, and have the rapport of managing elevator talk if we even communicate at all. However, by proximity, history, and mutual friends, I daresay we are more than acquaintances.
A few months ago, I saw a picture on Instagram of Hobnob's pimento cheese BLT. It looked amazing, dripping in soft, melty pimento cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato and avocado on sourdough. Then I forgot about it in the chaos of life and the entire summer went by.
For reasons that I don't understand, the vision of this pimento cheese sandwich came back into my head this week and I began to obsess over a sandwich I've never had (again). The only reasonable thing a gal can do in a situation like this is GO GET THE SANDWICH.
For the last five years, I haven’t liked anyone. I used to not believe myself when I said that. I wondered if I was lying, had I forgotten someone, or was I repressing something. Then this past winter I met someone. I experienced a month of dates, snuggles, hand holding, and whispering secrets I don’t even share with best friends. The contrast in feelings proved to me I hadn’t been lying: I hadn’t liked anyone for half a decade.
And suddenly I did.
Due to a host of reasons, some inevitable and some that I will save for future blogpost rants, things ended. The fracture came abruptly. It took my breath away. We briefly rekindled what may be called a sequel or a spinoff, but like most sequels, it flopped.
I have never stolen anything. Okay, I take that back, or else I wouldn’t be writing this post. I have never stolen anything intentionally.
In elementary school, I remember my mom took me to the Dollar Store, and I found some toy ball. Five minutes down the road later, I realize I’m still holding said ball and immediately shout, “I took the ball!” My mom insisted we return to the store and return the ball. At least she believed me that I hadn’t tried to steal it. Which was true. I hadn’t.
You might be wondering, what on earth could you possibly have left to say about weight loss, Sara? And that's a fair question. I want to talk about DietBet.
For starters: What is DietBet?
DietBet is an app which allows users to pay money into a weight loss challenge. The winners split the pot at the end. I hemmed and hawed about doing one. I knew from Biggest Loser that money motivated me to lose weight, but I only knew one person who has done it before. I also couldn't decide how much to bet or which type of game to do.
We realized we can't sit here and declare the best biscuit in Richmond alone. While yes, we have a food blog and eat a lot, we can't make that call all alone. Instead, we turned to our ATOB Instagram followers to vote.
The Biscuit Bracket's Creation
Running alongside the World Cup bracket, we started our own bracket. We arranged a bracket with 16 local restaurants with biscuits on the menu and asked people to vote in every day's match up via our Instagram stories (which means voting is only open for a day). The winner would then move on to the next round.
Pull up a bar stool and order another round. We’re about to talk about one of those dating urban legends that we all know is true, but we hate to be reminded.
We all know about the one who got away - the mythical first or maybe second or third love that stole our breath and then our hearts before vanishing into the night, either by their own devices or by some hand-spun twist of life and destiny. You’re probably thinking of your own now - that beautiful creature who slipped away no matter how much you argued, chased, and fought. And that’s why you need another drink: you know it’s true.