In order to research this week’s installment I took to the academically reliable source that is Wikipedia:

Brunch is a combination of breakfast and lunch, and regularly has some form of alcoholic drink (most usually champagne or a cocktail) served with it. It is usually served anytime before 3 o’clock in the afternoon.^[1][2][3] The word is a portmanteau of breakfast and lunch.^[4] Brunch originated in England in the late 19th century and became popular in the United States in the 1930s.^[5]

It then goes on to quote an article from 1895 by one Guy Beringer entitled “Brunch: a Plea”:

“Brunch is cheerful, sociable and inciting,” Beringer wrote. “It is talk-compelling. It puts you in a good temper, it makes you satisfied with yourself and your fellow beings, it sweeps away the worries and cobwebs of the week.”

It seems that in the UAE brunch is a big deal. A very big deal. I know this as I was invited to my first one last Friday. Despite being a very short cab ride away, I had been reliably informed that the Market Brunch at the Saadiyat Rotana is one of the best in town and so was delighted that it should be my first.

It’s hard to understand unless you have experienced it, so I shall try to summarise as best I can for my UK audience: you sit down at 1pm, you pay a fixed price, you then proceed to eat and drink as much as you can until 4pm.

That’s about the jist of it, however this brief summary is in danger of creating the wrong impression. It may have caused you to imagine one of those wretched ‘all you can eat’ buffets that permit you to gorge on as much cheap pizza, pasta and other beige items as you like, washed down with free-refil lager and followed by unlimited ‘ice cream station’ or some such culinary purgatory.

Imagine now, if you can, the opposite. Station after station of beautifully presented treats from around the globe. Rows of fresh seafood, antipasti and salads made for a delicious starter. This led on to more international cuisines: sushi, noodles, and curries abounded. I returned with a second course of dim-sum and, of course, Peking Duck rolls. Round the corner from there was a board of roasted meats that seemed to go on forever. At the recommendation of the server at this carnivores’ paradise I ended up with a Beef Wellington that melted on the tongue and reminded me of Sunday afternoons back in Blighty (apart from the fact that I wasn’t freezing cold). Rows of puddings included feather-light macarons, chocolate raspberry parfait and giant Ferrero Rocher (about which I am unsure how I feel, but they shall be included for the sake of completeness and so as not to upset the Ambassador).

Finally, the icing on the brunch cake: an entire cheese station. Which I am fairly certain is what heaven will look like.

At this point I refer back to our Wiki-expert, who informs us that our brunch “regularly has some form of alcoholic drink“. What this meant in our case was a drinks list that stayed by your side the whole afternoon and from which you could order at will. After pre-brunch cocktails I opted to move onto white with the food: there was a waiter walking round with an open bottle the entire time. My glass was not (despite my best efforts) once empty for the ensuing two and a half hours.

And so we can conclude that Mr Beringer, our erstwhile correspondent on all things brunch in 1895, got it spot-on. Come the end of this feast I was indeed ‘satisfied with myself and my fellow beings’. It had very much ‘swept away the worries and cobwebs of the week’. It had without doubt put me ‘in good temper’. Such good temper, in fact, that paying the bill and moving on to the next door Hamiltons Gastropub until well into the evening seemed like the only course of action.

Until the next morning….