Christmas mornings are some of my favorite childhood memories. Our house was usually filled throughout the entire day with neighbors, cousins, aunts and uncles, and friends that were like family. My grandparents would drive down from Rocky Mount, Virginia and Detroit, Michigan. My dad would have Vanessa Williams’ version of “Baby It’s Cold Outside” blaring through the speakers, although it was most likely a balmy 65 degrees in Houston. An aroma of coffee, country ham and fried apples would seep into my bedroom. Christmas morning breakfast was such a cheerful time.
Now that I’m older, it’s all about brunch. No one’s waking up at the crack of dawn to open presents. After playing Santa all night, we’re all about mid-morning mimosas and coffee.