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The Trouble with Brunch: Work, Class and the Pursuit of Leisure
Every weekend, in cities around the world, bleary-eyed diners wait in line to be served overpriced, increasingly outré food by hungover waitstaff. For some, the ritual we call brunch is a beloved pastime; for others, a bedeviling waste of time. But what does its popularity say about shifting attitudes towards social status and leisure? In some ways, brunch and other forms of conspicuous consumption have blinded us to ever-more-precarious employment conditions. For award-winning writer and urbanist Shawn Micallef, brunch is a way to look more closely at the nature of work itself and a catalyst for solidarity among the so-called creative class.
Drawing on theories from Thorstein Veblen to Richard Florida, Micallef traces his own journey from the rust belt to a cosmopolitan city where the evolving middle class he joined was oblivious to its own instability and insularity.
The Trouble with Brunch is a provocative analysis of foodie obsession and status anxiety, but it's also a call to reset our class consciousness. The real trouble with brunch isn't so much bad service and outsized portions of bacon, it's that brunch could be so much more.
Shawn Micallef is the author of Stroll and the co-editor of Spacing magazine. He was a 2011-12 Massey Fellow.
Drawing on theories from Thorstein Veblen to Richard Florida, Micallef traces his own journey from the rust belt to a cosmopolitan city where the evolving middle class he joined was oblivious to its own instability and insularity.
The Trouble with Brunch is a provocative analysis of foodie obsession and status anxiety, but it's also a call to reset our class consciousness. The real trouble with brunch isn't so much bad service and outsized portions of bacon, it's that brunch could be so much more.
Shawn Micallef is the author of Stroll and the co-editor of Spacing magazine. He was a 2011-12 Massey Fellow.
112 pages, Paperback
First published January 17, 2014
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 53 reviews
August 8, 2014
Last winter, my husband and I found ourselves seeking a mid-morning meal after a night out sans bebe. We were in a trendy east-end neighbourhood, so I figured the options would be plentiful. We checked out one place that I had heard lots about. It was lined up out the door. Eff that noise, we said ... and headed to a tried and true neighbourhood diner that had been firmly in place before the words organic and artisan had become common verbiage. Over our perfectly serviceable and reasonably priced eggs, toast, sausage and hashbrowns in a practically empty restaurant, we wondered aloud why on earth anyone would purposely choose to stand in the cold while hungry and slightly hungover to consume over-priced food prepared in a trendy manner. WTF? We flipped through the obligatory Toronto Sun (got to keep up to date on Ford Nation and what they are thinking), paid our bill and left happy and full in under 30 min. Perfect.
Micallef writes brilliantly about this very experience, and much more. A meditation on the modern middle class and its refusal/inability to examine the life that is being lived in this complicated and often contradictory world, this is a must-read for anyone who's ever thought perhaps it was a bit nutso to pay $7 for a head of lettuce at a farmer's market, or perhaps especially for those who find this desirable. Why is Honest Ed's a beacon of T.O. retail nostalgia, but the potential entry of a behemoth retail chain with much in common with Ed's reviled? Why is the idea of working class image so desirable in its aesthetic (exposed brick, DIY crafting, rustic furnishings, etc.) but rejected in it's reality (shopping at Walmart, affordable housing)? Micallef suggests that we've completely lost the ability to have frank discussions about class, that is, if we were ever able to have them in the first place. Indeed, discussions of income and the pursuit of it is traditionally gauche, but in the world of the social justice driven creative class, it's downright impossible.
Instead, stubborn insistence on participating in activities like waiting in line for cleverly presented brunch foods served on mismatched vintage tableware, seeking out expensive produce at a weekly market only open for 3hrs a week so that you can have a chat with the former-urbanite who grew it, and rallying against cookie-cutter housing developments that may be affordable to those who are a few rungs lower on the income ladder persist as commonalities. We have fetishized local, small and authentic to the point of exclusion of those who may not be able to access it... and we don't even have the decency to acknowledge it. It's not pretty.
This book may seriously piss a lot of folks off who perhaps don't see things quite in this light, but it's very thoughtfully presented and written in a very engaging manner. It's not very long and if I'd started it earlier in the day, I would have finished it in one go. You should read it. And then talk about it... maybe with your friends over a homemade brunch with ingredients purchased from your local No Frills. :)
Micallef writes brilliantly about this very experience, and much more. A meditation on the modern middle class and its refusal/inability to examine the life that is being lived in this complicated and often contradictory world, this is a must-read for anyone who's ever thought perhaps it was a bit nutso to pay $7 for a head of lettuce at a farmer's market, or perhaps especially for those who find this desirable. Why is Honest Ed's a beacon of T.O. retail nostalgia, but the potential entry of a behemoth retail chain with much in common with Ed's reviled? Why is the idea of working class image so desirable in its aesthetic (exposed brick, DIY crafting, rustic furnishings, etc.) but rejected in it's reality (shopping at Walmart, affordable housing)? Micallef suggests that we've completely lost the ability to have frank discussions about class, that is, if we were ever able to have them in the first place. Indeed, discussions of income and the pursuit of it is traditionally gauche, but in the world of the social justice driven creative class, it's downright impossible.
Instead, stubborn insistence on participating in activities like waiting in line for cleverly presented brunch foods served on mismatched vintage tableware, seeking out expensive produce at a weekly market only open for 3hrs a week so that you can have a chat with the former-urbanite who grew it, and rallying against cookie-cutter housing developments that may be affordable to those who are a few rungs lower on the income ladder persist as commonalities. We have fetishized local, small and authentic to the point of exclusion of those who may not be able to access it... and we don't even have the decency to acknowledge it. It's not pretty.
This book may seriously piss a lot of folks off who perhaps don't see things quite in this light, but it's very thoughtfully presented and written in a very engaging manner. It's not very long and if I'd started it earlier in the day, I would have finished it in one go. You should read it. And then talk about it... maybe with your friends over a homemade brunch with ingredients purchased from your local No Frills. :)
June 15, 2015
Assertions I can't get with in this book:
The solution to vapid brunch-going is to go to less popular brunch places or dim sum. Both are a much more revolutionary display of class consciousness. (Really?)
Brunchers of the world could unite over brunch. Because that is the closest thing the creative class has to a concrete thing in common. But for the foreseeable future, the creative class appears to believe they have nothing to lose. They’re just focused on expressing identities through consumption of goods and services. Mostly brunch.
Automation: a non-issue in the labour movement.
Hipsters hipsters hipsters. They invented appropriation. The overall downward mobility of the millennial generation has no place in class analysis.
Honest Ed’s and Walmart sell the same products and are basically the same thing.
Whole Foods and farmers markets sell the same products and are basically the same thing.
Kensington Market is the most indie and punk rock of all Toronto neighbourhoods.
Defining the middle class as "people who know who Zizek is."
Over all this book isn't the worst but it feels like a good premise that got lost and belaboured after the first third. It also stabs at class analysis but ends up feeling bougie and flaccid. I like Micallef's other writing and from what I can tell I like him as a person, but this didn't achieve what it could have.
The solution to vapid brunch-going is to go to less popular brunch places or dim sum. Both are a much more revolutionary display of class consciousness. (Really?)
Brunchers of the world could unite over brunch. Because that is the closest thing the creative class has to a concrete thing in common. But for the foreseeable future, the creative class appears to believe they have nothing to lose. They’re just focused on expressing identities through consumption of goods and services. Mostly brunch.
Automation: a non-issue in the labour movement.
Hipsters hipsters hipsters. They invented appropriation. The overall downward mobility of the millennial generation has no place in class analysis.
Honest Ed’s and Walmart sell the same products and are basically the same thing.
Whole Foods and farmers markets sell the same products and are basically the same thing.
Kensington Market is the most indie and punk rock of all Toronto neighbourhoods.
Defining the middle class as "people who know who Zizek is."
Over all this book isn't the worst but it feels like a good premise that got lost and belaboured after the first third. It also stabs at class analysis but ends up feeling bougie and flaccid. I like Micallef's other writing and from what I can tell I like him as a person, but this didn't achieve what it could have.
August 19, 2015
After a horrible beginning that made me want to quit Micallef settles into a an interesting description of the shared habitus of a certain kind of contemporary, young, middle class, North American.
At his best he writes about class issues in a style reminiscent of psychogeographic writings and discoveries.
And then the conclusion is incredibly disappointing, though more readable than the opening passages.
Part of the problem for me is that I'm not convinced that Micallef has a good understanding of his own position in the systems he observes. He appears to want the expertise of experience, with the distance of an outside observer, but fumbles both in trying to straddle too much.
Initially I wasn't interested in continuing because I felt Micallef's class analysis was lacking to the point of embarrassment, but I think he redeems himself significantly. It's just a shame he can't make a further leap into connecting different forms of capital other than economic, I say a shame because he constantly talks on the verge of it without ever really reaching further towards it.
At his best he writes about class issues in a style reminiscent of psychogeographic writings and discoveries.
And then the conclusion is incredibly disappointing, though more readable than the opening passages.
Part of the problem for me is that I'm not convinced that Micallef has a good understanding of his own position in the systems he observes. He appears to want the expertise of experience, with the distance of an outside observer, but fumbles both in trying to straddle too much.
Initially I wasn't interested in continuing because I felt Micallef's class analysis was lacking to the point of embarrassment, but I think he redeems himself significantly. It's just a shame he can't make a further leap into connecting different forms of capital other than economic, I say a shame because he constantly talks on the verge of it without ever really reaching further towards it.
February 25, 2018
Not a fan. I couldn't really relate to Micallef's statement that the middle class, or creative class (he often seems to use the terms interchangeably) spends their Sundays at expensive brunches drinking mimosas. Although I have gone to brunch from time to time, alcohol has never been part of the experience, nor has the expensive boutique restaurants that he describes. I do know people who this probably would apply to, but not being one of them, it was hard to accept his basic premise as being as pervasive as he describes.
Beyond the brunch thing, I don't find that Micallef makes persuasive arguments. He talks about how most Canadians define themselves as middle class, how most politicians pander to this nebulous group, and then doesn't define it further. When he talks about these brunch eaters, he ascribes a whole set of characteristics to them - they shop at Whole Foods and farmers' markets, they look down on discount grocery stores and Wal-mart, they are always on the lookout for fair trade and artisan goods - but his description sounds like it fits downtown, childless hipsters more than it does the entire middle class.
There are great swathes of the middle class that live in suburbs and smaller communities, who shop as Wal-Mart and other big box stores. They don't fit in with Micallef's description of the middle class. Even if we take his somewhat smaller group that he calls the creative class, you'll find many of those also living very differently than Micallef's description. So who is he talking about?
At times, you can see how Micallef could have done something really interesting. He says at one point that "food has become a conspicuously rebellious act." He talks about the restaurants serving raw pork and the fetishization of bacon. But his point is weak in a society where people self-diagnose themselves as being lactose or glucose intolerant. When so many people have developed a fear of lactose or gluten, how rebellious is food really? And when all the fast food chains have added "dangerous" foods - Wendy's the Baconator, KFC's Double Down sandwich being just two obvious examples - how is this a specifically middle class brunch thing? His argument doesn't hold water. There is an interesting study to be made with how our society relates to food, but it's not going to happen here.
For such a short book (103 pages), there's a lot of filler. He describes a brunch in Buenos Aires and tries to make a point about an international brunch culture tying people together. He goes into detail about the behind the scenes at a popular brunch restaurant, pointing out that the brunch diners don't realize all the work that goes on behind the scenes and how little the staff makes. But I've worked at McDonald's - you don't have to work in an upscale or trendy restaurant to know that you make little money with high stress. And working in a restaurant is obviously a lot harder and stressful than making your own food, but most adults understand that preparing food and cleaning up afterwards is a lot of work - if it wasn't, people wouldn't go out.
He includes a chapter about someone in Portland, Oregon, who prepares her own brunches and has people over. This is apparently quite revolutionary for Micallef. How small is his world? He then talks about someone else who has a group with strict brunch rules. They include a Twitter hashtag and photos of their breakfast for those members who can't attend. Neither of these examples seem so revolutionary that we have to read about them. This isn't exactly splitting atoms.
His book is very subjective. Despite the occasional academic source or reference from pop culture, a lot of his argument boils down to "this is what it was like for me to grow up working class, and this is what it is like for me now that I'm middle (or creative) class." His description of the circles that he found himself in when he first moved to Toronto don't resemble my experiences at all. A lot of his arguments also seem personal - he doesn't like brunch, he refuses to go to brunch, and he feels that the meal is a waste of time. He shops at discount grocery stores. He doesn't think farmers' markets are worth the money. He talks about how the vegetables don't taste any different than those in the grocery stores and then quotes from an academic, who by way of explaining why he goes to farmers' markets, talks about the excellence of their produce.
In another chapter, he compares the outrage of a Toronto neighbourhood when Wal-Mart tries to move in, despite the same community decrying the loss of a local store, Honest Ed's, which occupies a similar space and sells similar discount goods. But Micallef misses the point - the loss of aplace like Honest Ed's is not about the store's reality, but what it says about the changing nature of the city. Honest Ed's is mourned the same way the loss of other local institutions are: because it means the city is changing, and people who like the city are worried that it is becoming something they don't recognize. When you can put a name to the person behind a store - Ed Mirvish, Sam Sniderman, Timothy Eaton, Albert Britnell, Mel Lastman - it feels more of a part of the fabric of the community than a faceless corporate chain - Wal-Mart, Starbucks, Chapters, the Brick. People will still shop at those new corporate stores, but they don't feel the same. And if an American chain is replacing a locally-owned business, people feel that they've lost something important. And for that reason, I found Micallef's comparison of the two disingenuous.
There isn't a coherent argument to be found in this book. I didn't know if I would agree with the premise when I started this book, but I thought it was an interesting premise and I wondered where he would take it. Alas, the answer is not very far. Instead, we get a jumble of thoughts, loosely associated in Micallef's mind, and some facile observations about class. And a cantankerous view of brunch.
Beyond the brunch thing, I don't find that Micallef makes persuasive arguments. He talks about how most Canadians define themselves as middle class, how most politicians pander to this nebulous group, and then doesn't define it further. When he talks about these brunch eaters, he ascribes a whole set of characteristics to them - they shop at Whole Foods and farmers' markets, they look down on discount grocery stores and Wal-mart, they are always on the lookout for fair trade and artisan goods - but his description sounds like it fits downtown, childless hipsters more than it does the entire middle class.
There are great swathes of the middle class that live in suburbs and smaller communities, who shop as Wal-Mart and other big box stores. They don't fit in with Micallef's description of the middle class. Even if we take his somewhat smaller group that he calls the creative class, you'll find many of those also living very differently than Micallef's description. So who is he talking about?
At times, you can see how Micallef could have done something really interesting. He says at one point that "food has become a conspicuously rebellious act." He talks about the restaurants serving raw pork and the fetishization of bacon. But his point is weak in a society where people self-diagnose themselves as being lactose or glucose intolerant. When so many people have developed a fear of lactose or gluten, how rebellious is food really? And when all the fast food chains have added "dangerous" foods - Wendy's the Baconator, KFC's Double Down sandwich being just two obvious examples - how is this a specifically middle class brunch thing? His argument doesn't hold water. There is an interesting study to be made with how our society relates to food, but it's not going to happen here.
For such a short book (103 pages), there's a lot of filler. He describes a brunch in Buenos Aires and tries to make a point about an international brunch culture tying people together. He goes into detail about the behind the scenes at a popular brunch restaurant, pointing out that the brunch diners don't realize all the work that goes on behind the scenes and how little the staff makes. But I've worked at McDonald's - you don't have to work in an upscale or trendy restaurant to know that you make little money with high stress. And working in a restaurant is obviously a lot harder and stressful than making your own food, but most adults understand that preparing food and cleaning up afterwards is a lot of work - if it wasn't, people wouldn't go out.
He includes a chapter about someone in Portland, Oregon, who prepares her own brunches and has people over. This is apparently quite revolutionary for Micallef. How small is his world? He then talks about someone else who has a group with strict brunch rules. They include a Twitter hashtag and photos of their breakfast for those members who can't attend. Neither of these examples seem so revolutionary that we have to read about them. This isn't exactly splitting atoms.
His book is very subjective. Despite the occasional academic source or reference from pop culture, a lot of his argument boils down to "this is what it was like for me to grow up working class, and this is what it is like for me now that I'm middle (or creative) class." His description of the circles that he found himself in when he first moved to Toronto don't resemble my experiences at all. A lot of his arguments also seem personal - he doesn't like brunch, he refuses to go to brunch, and he feels that the meal is a waste of time. He shops at discount grocery stores. He doesn't think farmers' markets are worth the money. He talks about how the vegetables don't taste any different than those in the grocery stores and then quotes from an academic, who by way of explaining why he goes to farmers' markets, talks about the excellence of their produce.
In another chapter, he compares the outrage of a Toronto neighbourhood when Wal-Mart tries to move in, despite the same community decrying the loss of a local store, Honest Ed's, which occupies a similar space and sells similar discount goods. But Micallef misses the point - the loss of aplace like Honest Ed's is not about the store's reality, but what it says about the changing nature of the city. Honest Ed's is mourned the same way the loss of other local institutions are: because it means the city is changing, and people who like the city are worried that it is becoming something they don't recognize. When you can put a name to the person behind a store - Ed Mirvish, Sam Sniderman, Timothy Eaton, Albert Britnell, Mel Lastman - it feels more of a part of the fabric of the community than a faceless corporate chain - Wal-Mart, Starbucks, Chapters, the Brick. People will still shop at those new corporate stores, but they don't feel the same. And if an American chain is replacing a locally-owned business, people feel that they've lost something important. And for that reason, I found Micallef's comparison of the two disingenuous.
There isn't a coherent argument to be found in this book. I didn't know if I would agree with the premise when I started this book, but I thought it was an interesting premise and I wondered where he would take it. Alas, the answer is not very far. Instead, we get a jumble of thoughts, loosely associated in Micallef's mind, and some facile observations about class. And a cantankerous view of brunch.
September 10, 2025
read in a bookshop near pike's place
the trouble with this book is it takes the creatives of nyc and generalizes them and their poor spending habits to represent the entire american middle class.
the trouble with this book is it takes the creatives of nyc and generalizes them and their poor spending habits to represent the entire american middle class.
January 23, 2015
A witty punch in the face to the artifice and self-ignorance of the creative classes.
What does that mean? It means that Shawn Micallef - in the best of essayist styles - skewers a large portion of the middle class for failing to recognize its own class delineation in favour of artificially grasping at markers of working class identity. And simultaneously completely failing to recognize needs and world views beyond their own. Brunch is just one of the vehicles by which this performance is acted out.
North Americans really should pay more attention to class. It exists. It has problems and potential. And ignoring it doesn't help anyone. I look forward to Micallef's next little work - hopefully on something like yoga pants and the state of public urban dress today.
Also on Twitter and Tumblr
What does that mean? It means that Shawn Micallef - in the best of essayist styles - skewers a large portion of the middle class for failing to recognize its own class delineation in favour of artificially grasping at markers of working class identity. And simultaneously completely failing to recognize needs and world views beyond their own. Brunch is just one of the vehicles by which this performance is acted out.
North Americans really should pay more attention to class. It exists. It has problems and potential. And ignoring it doesn't help anyone. I look forward to Micallef's next little work - hopefully on something like yoga pants and the state of public urban dress today.
Also on Twitter and Tumblr
September 30, 2014
A look at modern class structure as seen through the lens of brunch: long lines, unhealthy food, leisurely eating (ya know). I wanted to like it. Hell, I bought the book after all. But I felt the focus was all over the place. Brunch and how it works, and why it is popular only shows up briefly in the second half, and then goes into a look at Walmarts in Toronto (I don't know)Some of it is interesting and if he stayed on Brunch he might have made his points on class better. But at the end I didn't know what he was trying to say.
November 8, 2014
Shawn Micallef certainly has some kind of beef with modern, hip, urban capitalism, but it isn't clear exactly what in this book, part of the "Exploded Views" series from Coach House. His issue seems to be with unexamined privilege, but is the weekend late-morning meal really the focal point? Is overpriced eggs benny really the height of modern decadence? I thought this was kind of muddled.
Read
August 12, 2025this had a lot of potential. i found the opening discussion about class mobility to be relatable and well-done. i loved every single reference to Toronto. there were a few observational gems, notably related to the performance of class — the juxtaposition of Honest Ed's vs. Walmart to challenge the idea that there is any sort of absolution to be had in consumption; the way that brunch restaurants co-opt the working class aesthetic to sell it back to the leisure class at a markup; the haughty people who judge others for shopping at the affordable chain grocery store instead of the much more expensive farmers' market. the author understands there is no absolution to be had by performing class or ethics, or in consumption.
the rest of the book hints at the idea of class solidarity for people who do not obviously appear to be part of the same class at first glance (ostensibly, the brunch class), but never quite gets to the crux of why it is so difficult to create solidarity among a very disparate group. a tech worker and an artist both fall under this definition of the brunch class, but they have very little in common at best, and outright hate each other at worst, and the author does not offer a hypothesis on how we might overcome this chasm. to be fair, that would've taken more words than this book was allocated — it read like an extended essay or column, and there's an entire thesis to be written on the topic. as a result, the conclusion was unsatisfying — not clearly a call for solidarity, or a sufficiently in-depth exploration into why class solidarity is nowhere to be found. at best, a handwavey gesture at class solidarity, but perhaps that's fitting for the times? it seems like these days that's the closest we're ever going to get.
the rest of the book hints at the idea of class solidarity for people who do not obviously appear to be part of the same class at first glance (ostensibly, the brunch class), but never quite gets to the crux of why it is so difficult to create solidarity among a very disparate group. a tech worker and an artist both fall under this definition of the brunch class, but they have very little in common at best, and outright hate each other at worst, and the author does not offer a hypothesis on how we might overcome this chasm. to be fair, that would've taken more words than this book was allocated — it read like an extended essay or column, and there's an entire thesis to be written on the topic. as a result, the conclusion was unsatisfying — not clearly a call for solidarity, or a sufficiently in-depth exploration into why class solidarity is nowhere to be found. at best, a handwavey gesture at class solidarity, but perhaps that's fitting for the times? it seems like these days that's the closest we're ever going to get.
June 13, 2021
I got a lot out of this little book. Firstly, it was great to see a Toronto darling defending No Frills and pointing out the absurdity of protesting the arrival of a Walmart. He also offered a lot of interesting insight into what the hell is going on in hipster culture or “the creative class” as he calls it. While I am a professional and not exactly in this group a ton of the people I know are, and these sensibilities, tastes and “morals” dominate. Some of it went a bit over my head. I think he’s calling for people who “brunch” to band together and realize they are a “class” and organize? Seems like that will never happen, but it’s a nice idea. More consciousness about what’s really going on can never hurt! I recommend this book to all SJWs, hipsters and people who are waiting in exclusive brunch lines!
February 1, 2018
I didn't agree with everything Micallef suggests, but such delicious food for thought! It's easy to hate Walmart, it's harder to have class consciousness. What does "Keeping up with the Joneses" look like today? How can the same cultural practice look and feel so different, and mean such different things, for different people? Income is no longer the determinant of class - education, sensibility, how we live. Great potential for unification across social and economic classes, by recognizing our commonalities and striving for the common good. Let's talk about it, over french toast.
November 30, 2014
I'm a bit conflicted on this book, and think it is more of a 3.5 if anything.
I appreciated the link between brunch and class politics -- a historical concept, which has been certainly gaining more traction these days. However, I found that I disagreed with a lot of points, or, more so, felt the explanation and discussion limited to more generalized versions of the conversation. I'm not sure if this was because of a specific length or what.
While I liked certain aspects of the writer's voice, I found the whole thing overly academic in style, and isn't writing a book about brunch and class politics and how we shouldn't partake in the ritual of brunch because of class politics in an overly academic style defeating the point? Maybe not, food for thought.
Either way -- whether I disagreed or agreed -- I found myself thinking with this book, which is always a plus!
But I must say, the thing that always rang in the back of my mind, is that I'm a bit over reading books about class politics and privilege by progressive white dudes, no matter how well intentioned. But, that's just a fun fact of my reading.
Last note: I'd recommend this to readers that it was perhaps geared towards: those of us who believe we are not gentrifiers while wholly taking part in the gentrification. It is a good quick read that had some laughs and thoughtful points -- this is obviously a topic the writer cares deeply about and spent a lot of time on and that I really appreciated!
July 21, 2014
An interesting little book that's not really about brunch. Instead, it's a fairly basic primer on class consciousness as it pertains to the creative class; in particular, it explores the tension between class defined by income and class defined by other social factors such as education and type of work. Micallef's focus on the global sameness of brunch is a solid entry point for the topic, and will hopefully inspire people to think more deeply about what's accepted as standard working conditions these days.
August 18, 2014
From beginning to end I craved brunch.
Brunch is something I've always enjoyed at home and didn't realize the culture surrounding it until I watched portlandia and later read this book.
It's so hard to come to the realization of the politics surrounding a simple brunch. However it's equally hilarious to dissect.
Micallef has a great tone throughout the book. He doesn't take himself too seriously and considers the perspectives of many others which rounds out the book.
Overall I enjoyed the book and it was just the right length which rewards rereading.
Brunch is something I've always enjoyed at home and didn't realize the culture surrounding it until I watched portlandia and later read this book.
It's so hard to come to the realization of the politics surrounding a simple brunch. However it's equally hilarious to dissect.
Micallef has a great tone throughout the book. He doesn't take himself too seriously and considers the perspectives of many others which rounds out the book.
Overall I enjoyed the book and it was just the right length which rewards rereading.
August 13, 2014
The book raised more interesting points than its slight length could really address. By the end, I felt like the trouble with brunch wasn't brunch, but a a complex mimosa of a precarious economy, low civic participation, and some crappy brunches Micallef had the misfortune to eat.
January 2, 2015
A series of inter-connected essays examining class from the perspective of brunch. I'm not sure if there's much to see here. Micallef raises some interesting points, but the book only skims the surface; there isn't any deep insight here.
October 25, 2014
I received this book as a first reads from the publisher so I would like to thank them for send me the book.
A delicious read on a Saturday morning...
A delicious read on a Saturday morning...
April 20, 2015
#12 - a book published by an Indie press
July 13, 2020
The best part about this book is very clearly its analysis of brunch and its relevance to the middle class - Micallef accurately identifies a lot of the problems that affect a subset of the middle class, the creative class: long, undefined hours and a constant overlap of work and leisure. However, it tries to elevate brunch to this grandiose unifying element across the middle class with no real arguments that would support it, claiming that the consumption of brunch should act as the unifying element to create some form of class conscience.
However, why do we need a class conscience that is based on consumption? Whereas the working class's class conscience allows it to see clearly its oppression and address it accordingly, this format of a middle class's class conscience is antithetical to the purpose of a class consciousness - it only makes evident the economic power that enables the existence of brunch and the middle class, without fully solving any of the problems associated with it. It would solidify some form of performative wokeness - which Micallef criticises by addressing farmer's markets and their unwavering fanatics - where the congregation of a few individuals in a rule-based brunch (Micallef suggests that rules would make brunch a much more pleasant and unifying element; ironically, they provide the example of a brunch that was limited to six people with a preference for those coming from outside the town - being exclusionary is clearly a poor strategy to create unity) would somehow materialise class unity.
It is for sure an interesting read and a brave effort at unifying such a loosely defined class, but I feel like this book, much like brunch as per Micallef, could be so much more.
However, why do we need a class conscience that is based on consumption? Whereas the working class's class conscience allows it to see clearly its oppression and address it accordingly, this format of a middle class's class conscience is antithetical to the purpose of a class consciousness - it only makes evident the economic power that enables the existence of brunch and the middle class, without fully solving any of the problems associated with it. It would solidify some form of performative wokeness - which Micallef criticises by addressing farmer's markets and their unwavering fanatics - where the congregation of a few individuals in a rule-based brunch (Micallef suggests that rules would make brunch a much more pleasant and unifying element; ironically, they provide the example of a brunch that was limited to six people with a preference for those coming from outside the town - being exclusionary is clearly a poor strategy to create unity) would somehow materialise class unity.
It is for sure an interesting read and a brave effort at unifying such a loosely defined class, but I feel like this book, much like brunch as per Micallef, could be so much more.
June 21, 2017
There's a lot of good material here, along with some stuff I didn't agree with, although in the latter case the issue is often the emphasis rather than the gist of it. I think the titular conceit is actually the trouble with this book; I live in Toronto, I've certainly been to brunch (and also out to breakfast), and the concept isn't quite as load bearing as Micallef wants it to be. But I imagine it's easier to sell this book (or to get people to pick it up, myself included I guess) when you've got such a kicky title than it would be if you were to refocus the exterior/surface of the book on the actual interesting/insightful meat of it; namely, how and why we work, and what we work for (and how that's changed and is changing). Suffers a bit, too, from the natural tendency we all have to overuniversalize our own experiences. But worth reading, and thought provoking.
September 3, 2022
As a working-class kid from a city similar to Windsor who has moved into the creative class as a adult discussions of class transition at the top of the book was fascinating, as was pointing out that many of the current differences between working-class and creative class are consumption, lifestyle, etc. as opposed to income. I’d never seen this before in writing and would have loved more of it - including a lengthier discussion on Wal-Mart v Honest Ed’s & No Frills v The Farmer’s Market (or maybe Farm Boy would be a cool take in 2022). However, I felt the arguments about brunch dragged a bit and I couldn’t really get into them. It was enough to compel me to buy Frontier City though, so still looking forward to reading more from this author!
July 18, 2023
I really enjoyed this book. I understand the other short comings of the analysis that others have articulated here, but I don’t think the point of the book was to write a full academic-length monograph that peels back all the layers and interrelated concepts associated with class.
I appreciated the brevity and the focus on a few ideas (class consciousness, leisure, and conspicuous consumption). The local examples made the analysis relatable and interesting. I think the books works really well and a quick intro to some big ideas as they apply to a seemingly benign leisure practice. I’ve already recommended this to a few friends.
I appreciated the brevity and the focus on a few ideas (class consciousness, leisure, and conspicuous consumption). The local examples made the analysis relatable and interesting. I think the books works really well and a quick intro to some big ideas as they apply to a seemingly benign leisure practice. I’ve already recommended this to a few friends.
November 18, 2019
This is a pithy entertaining exploration of class, capitalism, creative class and leisure time. I've stopped waiting in line for brunch as a function of aging although waiting in line is sometimes unavoidable.
Something that isn't explored in this book: the juxtaposition and commonality of Westerners unnecessarily waiting in line for food that is available everywhere compared with people in desperate circumstances waiting for food aid.
Full disclosure: I'm friends with the author and I've read the book twice.
Something that isn't explored in this book: the juxtaposition and commonality of Westerners unnecessarily waiting in line for food that is available everywhere compared with people in desperate circumstances waiting for food aid.
Full disclosure: I'm friends with the author and I've read the book twice.
August 8, 2019
I love brunch. This was a great gateway to understanding why I am attracted to the practice of brunching, and some of the other leisure activities that Micallef mentions in this concise analysis of class relations. This book is a helpful tool to better understand some fairly complex ideas in a basic and accessible-for-almost-anyone way.
February 19, 2018
Short but thoughtful. A worthwhile read on class consciousness.
December 26, 2024
Would’ve been great to read in 2014, still pretty good
July 20, 2025
this was fine
September 30, 2016
Slog through tangential thoughts. Lost interest and skimmed through last few pages.
June 7, 2015
He lost me at brunch in Argentina. Why would brunch be different elsewhere in the world? It's the same formula whether one is in Toronto, Berlin or Detroit. That's the beauty of this timeless activity. A classic get together with friends, ad nauseoum discussions about our weekly events, loves, and trials. What are dinner parties to him? Why is brunch at home acceptable? A few too many theories with little factual support. His quirky social cues get in my way of understanding the trouble with brunch.
Class aspiration did not start with brunch. That's an aspect of everything we do. Perhaps ingrained in us too. Really the relationship between class aspiration and brunching is summed up in less than one page by Rachael Popowich (a cook at Aunties & Uncles). "I almost think that the appeal of going out to do that vs. going to a diner, where one person can order breakfast and one person can order lunch, is that it feels kind of naughty, don't you think? It's like adults getting to be mischievous children. 'Ooh, we'll drink at breakfast. Let's be naughty. We're going to spend all this money on eggs and feel fabulous.' It's also a bit of conspicuous consumption. People want to go to the popular brunch spot so they can be seen there, because it's also showing people, 'I've got money and i've got time.'"
But I am thankful for his spot-on stories about growing up in Windsor. I spent many summers with my Windsorite aunts and uncles who all worked at Ford and Hiram Walker & Sons. His story rings true and was a touching and delicately told experience of growing up in a blue-collar industry town.
I also enjoyed all the thoughts around Veblen's leisure loving Victorians who are now the creative and professional types of our day. Oh how the hobbies of the leisure class still march on in our day.
Income defines your class but how you choose to portray and live your life leads to class aspirations. Brunch is such a small part of class aspirations. There are millions of other ways to aspire to the next higher class. I'm just not sure why that matters in the first place and why we would think there's a problem with class aspirations. Is brunching the next big bubble to burst?
I could have read 10 chapters about Windsor and interviews with those who work in fields where class aspirations are evident. Perhaps that's something Micallef can aspire to.
#joybrunchclub
Class aspiration did not start with brunch. That's an aspect of everything we do. Perhaps ingrained in us too. Really the relationship between class aspiration and brunching is summed up in less than one page by Rachael Popowich (a cook at Aunties & Uncles). "I almost think that the appeal of going out to do that vs. going to a diner, where one person can order breakfast and one person can order lunch, is that it feels kind of naughty, don't you think? It's like adults getting to be mischievous children. 'Ooh, we'll drink at breakfast. Let's be naughty. We're going to spend all this money on eggs and feel fabulous.' It's also a bit of conspicuous consumption. People want to go to the popular brunch spot so they can be seen there, because it's also showing people, 'I've got money and i've got time.'"
But I am thankful for his spot-on stories about growing up in Windsor. I spent many summers with my Windsorite aunts and uncles who all worked at Ford and Hiram Walker & Sons. His story rings true and was a touching and delicately told experience of growing up in a blue-collar industry town.
I also enjoyed all the thoughts around Veblen's leisure loving Victorians who are now the creative and professional types of our day. Oh how the hobbies of the leisure class still march on in our day.
Income defines your class but how you choose to portray and live your life leads to class aspirations. Brunch is such a small part of class aspirations. There are millions of other ways to aspire to the next higher class. I'm just not sure why that matters in the first place and why we would think there's a problem with class aspirations. Is brunching the next big bubble to burst?
I could have read 10 chapters about Windsor and interviews with those who work in fields where class aspirations are evident. Perhaps that's something Micallef can aspire to.
#joybrunchclub
March 8, 2016
The Trouble with Brunch: Work, Class and the Pursuit of Leisure book was an interesting read. It was a quick read. I expected to gain more sociological insight on the impact of middle class on brunch. Instead, I found myself still wondering about it by the end of the book. There were a lot of references made to television shows, music artists and authors That I was unfamiliar with at the time of this reading. In addition, I was distracted by this additional unnecessary information. These types of additional information would have worked better in a more in depth book. I was unable to connect the sociological perspective of the book to more concrete themes. At times, the description of the “middle class” seemed to merge with the description of the “working class” and neither of which had any relevance to finances. It seemed that the middle class was merely a transitional phrase that moved between classes and was not stable as to its clear distinction of being poor, middle class income or rich. So, I must say the book kept my attention due to the pleasant writing style; however, the idea was not concrete enough for me. It actually excluded certain ethnic groups that are accurately living a middle class financial lifestyle.
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