I’ve been going to fancy brunches since I was a spoiled tot, from grand hotels to glossy dining rooms where brunch is as much about ritual as it is about what’s on the table.
But some of my favorite brunch memories are far less rarefied. My dad loved the Forum Diner in Paramus, New Jersey, and every now and then we’d hit Sunday’s brunch buffet, a reminder that abundance and pleasure are not limited to white tablecloth experiences.
That range matters, because not every lavish spread earns its price, and not every great brunch needs to be a splurge…