In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best time to declare that I hate a buffet breakfast while my girlfriends were inhaling Danishes and cinnamon rolls from a lavish spread at our hotel in Thailand. Unsurprisingly, I was met with a shrill chorus of “What?” and “How can you?”
The truth is I’ve always been the person who side-eyed the friend piling her plate with waffles, most of which are destined for the bin. Over time, I’ve lost the love (and respect) for excess dressed as stone-hard croissants and fried rice that’s clearly last night’s dinner reheated in a chafing dish. Buffet breakfasts have become boring and predictable, with the same rubbery cold cuts and limp hash browns languishing below the fluorescent glare of a lamp.
I didn’t develop such strong feelings overnight. It’s just that, of late, some of my best breakfast experiences have been thoughtful set menus that lean into a city’s culture. At Brick Hotel in Mexico City, I was introduced to molletes, enfrijoladas and chilaquiles, served on request rather than left out in the open to get soggy. At The Merchant Galle Fort in Sri Lanka, I savoured string hoppers and pol roti with fish curry. And it’s not just boutique hotels with limited guests veering toward à la carte. The Standard, Bangkok, a buzzy 155-key hotel, serves a set menu, with dishes like mango sticky rice, steaming pork potstickers and prawn wontons in chicken broth doled out as early as 7am.
For decades, luxury in the hospitality industry was defined by the size of a hotel’s breakfast spread, but that’s changing as we shift towards ethical, immersive travel. Guests, many of them conscientious Gen Zers, now recognise that excessive options come at a cost to the environment. According to the UN Environment Programme’s 2024 Food Waste Index Report, buffets waste roughly 300 grams of food per person on average, which is more than double the 130 grams wasted at a plated meal. “Buffets are built on prediction, and hotels have historically overproduced to avoid looking like they’re running out. That’s expensive and, increasingly, unsustainable,” says Mark Wong, senior vice president, Asia Pacific, Small Luxury Hotels of The World. But change is afoot. “The hotel industry is under a lot of pressure, with pledges like the UNEP’s Recipe of Change Campaign pushing operators toward smaller batches, live cooking and tighter replenishment,” Wong adds.
Travel journalist Nicola Chilton says there’s also a sense of pride in serving a local dish, as it allows chefs to showcase their creativity. “I’ve seen servers light up while talking about their local breakfast, recommending what I should try the following day. There’s something special about having a chef cook you a regional specialty like a bowl of laksa or shakshuka rather than having to go around with a plate and help yourself to lukewarm food.” Chilton’s best breakfast memories have never been at a buffet breakfast. One that stands out is at Tobira Onsen Myojinkan, a ryokan in the forest outside Matsumoto in Nagano, Japan. “There was a selection of tiny seasonal morsels—pickles, tofu, seared fish, shiitake mushroom on a charcoal grill—all served by an utterly charming retired submarine captain.”
While buffet breakfasts with their 10am cut-off can often feel regimental for late risers, there’s no denying they work well in big hotels where business travellers don’t have the luxury of time and need a quick fix. But the excess belongs to another era. Mario Tolentino, Marriott International’s Director of Culinary APEC, believes the buffet won’t entirely disappear. It will evolve and find a middle ground with a smaller footprint.
