Having just attended my first-ever bottomless brunch, I can comfortably say that the girls have definitely hacked it.
I'd heard so many stories of screaming matches across long tables, bathroom pass-outs and rivers of mimosa-coloured vomit that I was expecting pure chaos.
Instead, I found myself in a safe haven from the usual disasters of stock-standard pre-drinks. The squad was seated in prime conversation arrangement, my drinks would come to me and, rather than a bag of chips, quality food lined my stomach.
Lessons I learnt at my first ever bottomless brunch
Long Table = best table
In the past, my drinking experiences have been confined to six-man tables, flat couches, and night-club standing. At this bottomless brunch, we fit 22 people onto one table and it was glorious.
Conversations could easily start, flow and jump between the five people closest to you (one opposite, two on either side and two diagonal) and the five closest to them, allowing for debates and agreements to spread along the table.
In the space of five minutes, everyone could inform each other about what they think it means to ponder on the Roman Empire, those just returning from travels could give tips to those about to depart and the mimosa jug could quickly fill up 22 glasses.
The convenience is what you're paying for
Simply raising a hand and having a drink delivered to you is one of modern hospitality's greatest achievements. Obviously, this happens at bars and restaurants, but time is wasted as the waitress doesn’t know what one drink you’ll order from their vast menu.
At bottomless, the drink choices are limited so the staff know what you’re getting and that you're most likely going to want another one. This leads to your next drink arriving nearly instantly. A dangerous game, for sure, but it’s a form of convenience that exclusively belongs to bottomless brunches and is what you are truly paying for.
Quality food is a God-send mid drinking sesh
Whether it be a bag of chips or a bowl of fries, the usual pres feed isn’t super scrumptious. The pad thai I ordered this past weekend felt like a guardian angel nudging me down the righteous path.
It fought off the damage the mimosas and Peroni were just beginning to take, keeping me in check and in top form. The fact that it tasted good meant I wanted to eat it more and more, rather than simply eating it just to line the stomach.
It made me hold off calling for a final mimosa or two, instead allowing me to fully enjoy the shit chat going on around me, and prep me for the rest of the day.
The girls have known this all along but now it needs to be immortalised: Done right and responsibly, bottomless brunches are one of the classier ways to have a controlled yet still rowdy pre-drinks, and I am all for them.
