During our NYC days, we developed some favorite ways to spend a weekend. Every Sunday after church, Julia would turn to me and ask where I wanted to go to brunch. I’m convinced she only did this to let me know that I could have options if I so desired them, simultaneously knowing full well exactly where I’d ultimately choose to spend our Sunday afternoon. She sure is good to me.
Locanda Verde. It’s one of those ‘cool’ restaurants in the city...and this title means that there will be a 2-hour wait. Yes, even at brunch. It’s just a fact. I know, I know, for all you non city slickers out there, you’re outraged at this thought instantaneously...2 hours for eggs?!? Yes. It’s worth it. (At least I think so. If Julia weren’t so sweet, she would be rather inclined to agree with the fact that there’s no reason to wait this long for any meal.) We got to be rather good at it...reading the Sunday Times and being together made the waiting bearable. (As did the fact that we would soon be rewarded with tomato hollandaise and garlic roasted home fries...)
It was a damn fine tradition we created for ourselves. Especially after a few weeks of this routine...somewhere along the way, we became ‘regulars’. There came a day when we walked into a crowd of folks waiting for brunch...and instead of putting our names down, the hostess looked us in the eyes and said. “Good to see you two. We have a table ready for you now.” At first I thought it was some crazy kind of luck...and then, it happened again the next week, and the next...what a couple of lucky gals we are! (I’d be lying if I said this had nothing to do with Julia’s charm and kindness in winning over just about anyone...especially in this case, the powers that be at Locanda Verde.)
Sunday brunch will always be one of our favorite parts of the week...but when we moved here, it was hard to imagine finding ways to continue our tradition...’cause rice and beans for brunch just doesn’t have the appeal quite like a bloody mary and uovo modenese...
But, leave it to me to find good eats in the middle of nowhere. It involves a bit of a walk...but we've found a place just outside of town that makes some mighty fine cuisine...and it's only fitting that it's owned and operated by Italians. This week, we couldn't resist the pizzas, but I can promise we'll be back for the roasted chicken and handmade buffalo mozzarella...(tradition demands it.)
Our Italian Sunday brunch tradition can continue...