Amused by a Cocktail of a Brunch

At what point does brunch cease to be brunch and become an all-day adventure?

Running into a friend unexpectedly yesterday, I suggested brunch at Amuse today with his sweetie only to find that he was all for it. One caveat, however: he had to go to work afterwards.

He called later to confirm and we decided on 11:45, which would allow for a civilized wake-up time and still let us to beat the pretty people/churchgoers in.

Arriving close to on time despite my new-found propensity for tardiness, I found them absent and planted myself at the bar. Bartender Stephen greeted me and. without a word, made me feel welcome.

Reaching for the absinthe drip, he hauled it down and said, "Maybe I'd better refill this just in case." It wasn't even noon and he was making presumptions about my future absinthe consumption. Good or bad, I couldn't decide.

My friends the happy couple arrived and were pleased to see I'd scored bar stools for them.

When Stephen automatically began pouring  Montand Sparkling Brut Rose for me, they followed suit and had the same.

It was the earliest I'd ever been at Amuse and I felt fortunate to experience the pleasures of the early afternoon light, so different from the late afternoon and early  evening light, on the nearby museum walls

At times, we could even see the play of the water's reflection from downstairs on the wall and glass panels. It was lovely transient art.

With a couple of glasses of bubbles imbibed, we moved on to the eating portion of brunch, which began with hunks of raspberry coffeecake as the bread du jour. Moist and with bits of raspberries throughout, it took the edge off our appetites.

When we finally did order, two of us couldn't resist the special of Marguez lamb sausage over a Spanish tortilla with caramelized onion, spinach, and Manchego topped with a Romesco sauce; a side salad accompanied it, adding its peppery flavors to the mix.

The harissa seasoning of the sausage gave the dish a decided piquancy and the caramelized onion provided the sweetness. The eggy tortilla and sausage made for a hearty dish. Plainly put, we had laid down the base layer.

Afterwards, Stephen teased us by telling us about a new drink of which he was quite proud, although it was not yet on the menu. Don't tease and not produce, I warned him.

With a little prodding, we were able to order the Lady Blackberry, an enticing combination of Patron and gin that somehow also involved egg whites. A study in pink layers, it was complex and silky.

Should you be in Amuse anytime soon and seeking a unique cocktail, ask about it; this is a drink that will speak to many palates.

Once done with that guilty pleasure, we continued with the cocktail portion of the afternoon, which for me meant the green fairy arrived (okay, so Stephen had been prescient in filling the drip earlier) while my friends began with a Bamboozle and a Hemingway.

We finally got around to discussing dessert, only to become lost in other topics like life's priorities.  The male half of the couple boiled his down simply enough: women, music, blueberry pie, steak and then bourbon.

I will have to give it some thought before producing my own such list. It did, however, spur us to order dessert. We tried one of today's specials, the blueberry buckle as well as the old standby, the chocolate pate.

The buckle came over a mango/goat cheese combination and beside an enormous gob of fresh whipped cream.

As the three of us enjoyed the buckle, we got into a discussion of young men's presumed wisdom. It was a good thing the green fairy had visited me repeatedly by that point.

My friend said that when he was in college, he was sure he knew absolutely everything.

"That blueberry almost came out my nose," his loving girlfriend said in response to that statement. The visual alone made the day a success.

At several points in the afternoon, it was acknowledged that we had been there for three, four and finally five hours. Only then did it seem wise to end our endless brunch and move on.

Had it not been for a surreptitious trip through the "Civil War Redux: Pinhole Photographs of Reenactments" exhibit in a nearby hallway earlier, I would not have been ready to leave.

Much as I love Amuse, I do require at least some art when visiting the museum; I am an art geek after all.

The shadowy pictures of re-enactors on the steps of the White House of the Confederacy and in front of the Lee Memorial  danced the line between modern day and the past.

I especially loved the occasional anachronistic detail like a Custer re-enactor leaning against a Dodge truck. Where history meets the highway, so to speak.

It's the same bizarre intersection as when a quiet little brunch becomes a day-long odyssey through food, cocktails and conversation.

I honestly thought I'd be home in an hour and a half. I'm sincerely glad that I wasn't. And that's without even sharing the best part of the day.

Mum's the word. Or, for now, Montand Sparkling Brut Rose.

And, needless to say, no one did any work afterwards.