I had six friends over for brunch on a Sunday in April. The whole thing cost $58 in groceries and took about an hour to put together. Here's what I made and what I'd do again.

I stopped trying to host elaborate brunches a few years ago. The food never came out at the same time, the eggs were always cold, and I'd be in the kitchen when everyone was finally talking. Now I make one warm thing, one cold thing, one bowl of fruit, and a carafe. That's it.

The menu

A leek and goat cheese frittata. Six eggs, half a leek (sliced and softened in butter for ten minutes), four ounces of goat cheese, salt, pepper. Bake at 375 for 22 minutes. Total cost: about $9. Serves six if you cut it small.

Smoked salmon, capers, dill, lemon. Trader Joe's smoked salmon, $7 for the pack. Capers from a jar I already had. A small handful of dill, $2.50. Half a lemon, sliced. Plate it. That's it.

Strawberries with honey. Two pints, $8. Slice them. Pour a small jar of honey beside them. Don't mix — let people drizzle.

One carafe of orange juice. Half a bottle of the not-from-concentrate kind ($5), and three oranges I squeezed that morning ($4). The fresh-squeezed half makes the bottled half taste better. I learned this from someone's grandmother.

Coffee in a French press, milk in a small pitcher, butter and flake salt on a wooden board. A loaf of sourdough from the grocery bakery, $5. Salted butter, $4. Maldon, $7 for a tin that lasts a year.

Total: $58, give or take. Feeds six with leftovers for me on Monday.

The most generous thing a host does is sit down. Pick the menu that lets you sit down.

The table

A linen tablecloth I got at HomeGoods two years ago for $24. Unironed — it always has a wrinkle and that's part of the point. White stoneware plates from Crate & Barrel that I've had since college. Cloth napkins in oatmeal (six for $30 from World Market). Water glasses with no stems, the heavy IKEA ones for $3 each. A small jug of grocery store flowers in the middle, $9 — ranunculus when I can get them, tulips when I can't.

No place cards. No charger plates. Six adults can find a chair.

The hour before

I light a candle on the kitchen counter at 9:30. I put music on at 9:45 — something with no words, played low. I drink half a cup of coffee standing up. I open one window. By the time the doorbell rings at 10, the apartment smells like the candle and the leeks in butter and someone is playing a piano somewhere in the speaker. People walk in and they're already a little softer.

That's the whole thing. The brunch was always going to be fine. The hour before is what makes it feel like Sunday.