The Brunch Culture Others may argue, but New York City trumps in the art of this meal.
By Noelle Howey

(FORTUNE Small Business) – In much of this great nation, Sunday brunch still means one of two things: breakfast after church or a smorgasbord buffet in the local hotel dining room. On the menu: the holy trinity of eggs, bacon, and white toast (the "br") with sliced ham, clam chowder, and salad (the "unch"). Or a stack of blueberry pancakes with Aunt Jemima in a stainless steel pitcher.

True, big cities have become beacons of progress in the evolution of brunch. The Inn of the Seventh Ray in Topanga, Calif., serves a stunning buffet of organic salads. Montreal's ultracute Eggspectations delights tourists with savory sausage cups.

But the real brunch--true to its etymological origins as a bacchanalia--has arguably been perfected in only one city: New York. In the city that sleeps late, brunch is a ritual observed with religious devotion, served Saturday and Sunday until about 5 P.M., at well over 100 establishments. It's determinedly innovative, featuring dishes that are fully reconceptualized from diner standards, as well as a full bar and all-you-can-swill coffee. Instead of serving the usual eggs Benedict with soggy English muffins, Manhattan's Five Points features a glistening melange of brioche, fresh asparagus, and tangy Hollandaise, oven-baked in a skillet. And rather than proffering the usual dunkin' doughnuts or even buttermilk biscuits, the aptly named Good restaurant offers a warm, cakey, orange confection for dipping into thick Oaxacan hot chocolate. For a sleepy-morning, home-style atmosphere, you can repair to Kitchenette in TriBeCa, where the waffle is a gingerbread decadence served with pumpkin butter.

New Yorkers understand that brunch is the dining equivalent of Zen meditation with, of course, more chatter. This is the closest Americans come to a European meal, in which the company is as important as the cuisine. It's the time when New Yorkers see their great-aunts, their best friends, even their children. They put their hair in ponytails, wear sweats, and leave (most of) their affectations at home. Visitors can revel in New York's brunch culture, but as an antidote to the city's usual intensity, it may never be needed quite the way the natives need it.