Monday, June 11, 2007

Recipe for Life

My friends and I have a quasi-tradition on Sunday mornings, we whip up a big-girl brunch, drink bottomless mimosa’s and talk shit until we practically lose our voices. This typically takes place at the Mayor of Tarrytown’s house (aka Stratocade) and the guest list varies; friends, new people, boyfriends, leftover one night stands and the like. Before he was throwing hams in San Francisco, Kelly successfully anchored the Austin social scene and his extensive rolodex coupled with his exquisite kitchen skills helped start this tradition. We have forged on without him, although never with as much gusto (or alcohol induced debauchery).

Brunch is by no means a “gay thing”…but it really is. Personally I think we use it as an excuse to drink on a Sunday mornings, but more importantly it gives us the opportunity to excise our inner Barefoot Contessa and outdo one another in the kitchen. Gays (and Paula Deen) have perfected Sunday brunch and my friends and I are no exception. I actually took the time out on Saturday afternoon to pre-make some anchor items. Ham and Asparagus Breakfast Strata and French Toast Soufflé. I’m thinking it really doesn’t get much gayer than that. Well maybe except for this tragic example.

My point here is that some people may think that being gay excludes you from typical Norman Rockwell family traditions like sit down dinners at home and Sunday afternoons on the porch. I can report that my friends and I are doing both quite successfully. I can almost guarantee the company is more interesting and the drinks are much stiffer on our side of the street. I think I speak for most gay people I know when I say that we treat our friendships as familial. When I think about growing older, I think about doing it golden girls style with my best friends, not with one significant other. While im sure by then we will all have some one special in our lives to share personal moments with, I know it will be my friendships that will continue to usher me through life’s ups and downs and most likely that will be done over Brunch.

Recommended:

French Toast Soufflé

INGREDIENTS
10 cups white bread cubes
1 (8 ounce) package lowfat cream cheese, softened
8 eggs
1 1/2 cups milk
2/3 cup half-and-half cream
1/2 cup maple syrup
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons confectioners' sugar


DIRECTIONS
Place bread cubes in a lightly greased 9x13 inch baking pan.
In a large bowl, beat cream cheese with an electric mixer at medium speed until smooth. Add eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Stir in milk, half and half, maple syrup, and vanilla until mixture is smooth. Pour cream cheese mixture over the bread; cover, and refrigerate overnight.
The next morning, remove souffle from refrigerator, and let stand at room temperature for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C).
Bake, uncovered, for 30 minutes in the preheated oven, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Top with fresh strawberries, sprinkle with confectioners' sugar, and serve warm.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Brunches, I just go out for them because I'm too hung over or tired from the night before. Plus, you get to see how others have recovered from their night of debauchery. However, I go like the sit down dinners and drinking wine that allows for the free flow of conversation.

Anonymous said...

I'm glad you used my friend Chris C. as an example of gay tragedy. And I look forward to more brunches...I've missed them these past few months.

Kelicious said...

and i will still be there, on the linai...hopefully in OBX

Anonymous said...

I miss the Tarrytown brunches at the mayor's place.

In Hollywood, I have a similar ritual where we meet at the Hollywood Farmer's Market and cruise and buy produce and maybe see Jake Gyllenhaal or Mark Ruffalo. Then, brunch at some location with good Bloody Marys. On more adventurous days, the beach or movie is thrown in before an afternoon drink at the Roosterfish or the Abbey or Faultline.

Keeps me sane and sorts me out for the week.