Since coming to the city, I have adopted the classic, very New York tradition of brunch.

Brunch stands for everything indulgent and lazy in the world. It is breakfast transformed and made leisurely, a way to start the weekend right.

Whether you’ve made a reservation at an upscale restaurant with your dad, or are enjoying a mushroom frittata and homemade marmalade on biscuits with a dear friend…

Brunch is always best.  

Tender, earthy, and gilled.

Cremini, shiitake, oyster, and hen of the woods.

Fungi with names just as beautiful as their form.

For lunch, shashuka.

Eggs poached in a spiced tomato sauce; parsley and feta sprinkled on top, a slice of crusty bread on the side. 

This is so easy to make, it’s almost a crime. And it’s my favorite kind of egg: barely set, with a soft-boiled yolk.

The beginnings of a frittata, an (almost) weekend.

Rosemary, not only for its heady aroma, but to remind me of all the vegetables to be roasted, olive oil shortbread cookies to be made, stews to be simmered.

A reminder to always be making something. 

Sauté, simmer, purée. 

For cream of mushroom soup, you will need:

shallots

a variety of mushrooms

and plenty of thyme.

Fresh bread, good butter, and raw honey.

Couldn’t ask for a better breakfast.