Greetings from Carrboro,

I was arms-crossed confident arguing with my best friend. The ramshackle restaurants that dotted the road near Douglas Airport did not have roofs. Period. His father told him that I was wrong. I fully admitted that because of the possibility of rain (or cold or heat), the why didn’t completely make sense. But in my corner, I did point out the lack of a roof clearly made it super cool to watch the planes fly overhead from inside. And, duh, the lighted signs out front clearly stated that each of the places were topless, so it was obviously a very popular feature, regardless of the weather.

I had the same word-centric issue many years later in Manhattan. My date must have thought I was nuts when I had a semantic argument with our waitress; the poor woman was just doing her job. But I had been flummoxed by what a “bottomless” mimosa might be and when she told us, I opined that “endless” was a better word. Rationalizing my word preference by the fact that I could point to the bottom of my bottomless mimosa did not improve my standing in either of their eyes.

Sometimes words get in the way. OK, that may be a me thing. But a word that I most assuredly wouldn’t have argued about that day – or any day – is brunch. Sitting there, I fell in love with the whole notion of breakfast-y food turned up a notch or three. Brunch is such an optimistic meal. And I got the itch naturally; my father loved eggs benedict but the hollandaise we used came from a mix and had that tragic flavor of almost. But here were people, table after table, having a grand old time, the sun shining overhead. It was glorious.

Today, I did some honest calculations. Since my disastrous date so many lifetimes ago, I’ve somehow made nearly 70,000 biscuits to serve during brunch at Acme. That’s a lot of White Lily Flour and buttermilk. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit. But the really crazy part is that I still love brunch. The whole vibe hasn’t really changed in all those years. Bacon and eggs and biscuits and grits just don’t get old. Neither do donuts or eggs benedict. You know that this list could go on and on. Because brunch is like a banging playlist where you k

now the words to every song.

And this Sunday is supposed to be beautiful. People can sit outside. The food will be delicious. Spring will definitely be in the air. And, yes, there will be lots of mimosas. I mean, who can argue with that.

Well, that’s all the news from Carrboro. The staff at Acme look forward to serving you soon.

Cheers,

The Staff at Acme