Barbrix - Hyperion Ave. (Los Angeles)

January 30th, 2016 - (Braden's Choice)

Rarely do I ever drink these days. It was never quite my vice, to be honest. But when I do drink, I drink. And when I day drink, I DRINK.

Barbrix - A wine bar and sometime brunch location. Inside/Outside seating, and reservations are almost certainly required if you would like a table. If you do not have a reservation, you may sit at the bar and spend two hours staring at all the empty tables that have been reserved that morning.

Bottomless mimosas for $8.00

I am going to repeat that, because that bears repeating: They serve bottomless mimosas for $8.00/person here. Do they make money off that? No. But after you get the munchies, they do.

Mimosa #1: Braden and I sat at the corner of the square bar and started off right away. After a toast to raises and feeling good about life, we downed our first one. I had been sipping on coffee for a few minutes prior, so as to prepare myself for the eventual entrance of alcohol into my system. These mimosas, by the by, were very well balanced, and delicious.

Mimosa #2: The bartender came by with refills and took our orders. I downed about half of my flute right there, determined to get my money's worth. In my head, I needed to drink about four of them to truly get value for my purchase. Two dollars a pop seemed reasonable enough.

Mimosa #3: The food came out quickly - and none too soon, as I began to feel a bit anxious and hangry. I ordered the Smoked Salmon Benedict with a side of fresh fruit. I had, at this point, been one-for-one with my coffee/mimosa intake, so I didn't feel like I was slowing down at all. I could still feel my teeth, and I wasn't slurring. Still golden. Downed most of that sucker before I dove in to my breakfast.

Braden went after the Breakfast Poutine with a side of bacon - and was also toe-to-toe with me on mimosas. The eggs are perfect at this place. Never underestimate the power of a well-prepared egg.

Mimosa #4: True to form, I inhaled my food. The bartender kept up with us quite nicely, though, which caused me to slow down and split my attention equally between bites of delectable Smoked Salmon Benedict, and mouthfuls of refreshing, inebriating mimosa.

Mimosa #5: This is where things started to get a little wonky. Braden and I were discussing concrete things, like work, and studio apartments. Now we were talking about humanism and "getting out of your comfort zone". I could feel my blood turning a light orange, and little champagne bubbles forming on my soft palate. I also think I had begun leaning forward a little. Braden went out to refill his parking meter.

Mimosa #6: I didn't even see this one happen. I drained number 5, looked away while my hand was still on the glass, and when I looked back, the glass was full. And HERE'S where they get you. To make up for the loss that they incur from making the mimosas bottomless, they tempt you with deserts. So I got the Honey Lavender Panna Cotta.

I'm going to be honest. That's not my picture. I found that on Yelp, or something. Mine was actually bigger than that. But I was so focused on eating it, that I forgot to take a picture.

Mimosa #7: I also forgot about the bartender filling up our glasses every chance he could. As I drowned in blissfully light panna cotta, round seven was right there waiting for me when I came up for air. Braden, at this point, asked for the check. Which was a good idea, as I was about half an hour from needing to refill my parking meter. Lord knows I wasn't going anywhere for a while.

Mimosa #8: This was "one for the road", I think. We paid, and finished our flutes. As I stood up, two things happened. First, I felt the world shift really sharply to the left. Second, I felt my bladder almost explode. I didn't realize just how drunk I was. And as I unceremoniously excused myself to go to the restroom, with each step I grew increasingly drunker and drunker. I suppose most of a bottle of champagne in an hour will do that to you.

Braden and I said goodbye outside the restaurant, and nodded in approval of it. Barbrix was an absolute success. As I walked across the street to my car, I knew I was in no condition to drive. Not the first time I've slept in my car, and I'm sure it will not be the last. It certainly was the first time that I slept off being drunk in a parking spot on the side of the road.

The truly strange part was having to wake up every hour to feed the meter, and being judged by the 10 year old kids on their skateboards trying to play out on the sidewalks. I wanted to look at them and say, "it isn't always like this, kid! I'm actually a respectable, coherent human being!" However, I knew that I wouldn't be able to speak well enough to be understood. So I settled instead for saying, "whaddayawant" in a pseudo menacing manner. Three hours later, I was sober and on my way home, where I drank a gallon of water and worked out.

Ah, the good life.

With Phillip "Living Wage" Meyer, and Braden "Cost of Living" Yandle.

http://www.barbrix.com/

The Six - Ventura Blvd. (Studio City)

January 24th, 2016 - (Chris's Suggestion, Phil's Choice)

Dear Jenna,

You probably do not remember me. You see a LOT of people per day in your job. I think you should know before I continue with this letter that I am not prone to such immediate and boyish feelings. Perhaps it was the coffee, or the way you poured it-... I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

I do this brunch thing every Sunday. I know, it's entirely privileged and typical of the white middle class, but it's a good time for me to see friends out here in this crazy, sprawling city-mass that is the Los Angeles area.

I had made plans to see my friends Codie and Bill this time around in a place that my friend Chris suggested. I wish you could have met Codie and Bill but THEY FLAKED OUT ON ME AND DIDN'T TELL ME THEY WEREN'T COMING. *ahem* *twitch* So I was left here by myself texting them and looking like a fool for telling you that I wanted a table for three once I found out that they wouldn't show up.

You made everything better, Jenna. You looked at me and smiled with those genuine eyes and said, "you can stay here. I'll be happy to keep you company," in the cutest, thickest Wisconsin accent I have ever heard. I found myself completely forgetting about being ditched (which I'm actually totally cool about. Look at me being cool about it!) and just wanting to talk to you more.

When I asked for the coffee I couldn't help but ask where you were from, as your charming accent had me enthralled. And when I found out that you had lived in Chicago for a while I found myself saying, "OHMYGODILIVEDINCHICAGOFORAWHILETHAT'SSOWEIRDHAHA!"

Yeah, it might have been a bit over-excited. And I quietly kicked myself under the table as you walked away to go put in my order. I thought to myself, "get your shit together, Meyer. She's your waitress. It's her job to be nice. Don't be SUCH a creep." It's difficult to find myself instantly interested in a complete stranger and interact with them without being WAY awkward. And I know this. So I took a few breaths and continued to act like I was texting people.

As you came back with my order of Huevos Rancheros, you paused a moment and began talking to me about The Loop in Chicago and why you moved out here. My heart lept a little, and I tried to play it cool. As we talked about the wonderful feeling of living by the lake shore in North Chicago in the late summer, I found myself really TRULY interested in your story and... well, you.

Truth Time: I ordered the avocado brioche just so I could stay there and maybe have the chance to talk with you again. When you placed it in front of me and smiled, I lost track of thought and attempted to eat it with my hands. FYI: That balsamic reduction is sticky. VERY difficult to get off your skin once it's there. We talked for a few minutes longer, and I tried to make certain I did not have any balsamic on my face. But then it began to get busy and you had to tend your other tables. I understood. I ate the rest of my brioche with my fork, while trying not to watch you wait tables. Because that would be SUPER creepy. Instead, I made it look like I was texting some friends, then paid and left without saying goodbye.

I know you have a story of your own, and I find myself really wishing that I could have known that story. I wanted to ask you questions, and say things like, "with your personality, which shows in your smile, which shows in your eyes, I cannot see you staying in a serving job for long." But people don't say things like that to each other here. Not without being labeled a creep. And yes, I suppose it all matters HOW you do something like that. I do not know the way to make any of this a smooth interjection in conversation. I'm not that smooth.

So I write this letter. A letter that could be written to countless many people, BY countless many others. When we stumble upon people who interest us like that, it is a brief breath of life. As though a jolt of energy runs through your soul and wakes you up. It is so easy to walk through this world while doing your own thing and thinking about nothing but your life. I like it when I think about others. I like myself when I am interested in others. And it makes me think outside my own world for a bit.

So, thank you for waking me up for a moment, Jenna. It meant a lot to me.

Phillip "Thinking of You" Meyer

http://thesixrestaurant.com/

Jinkys Studio Cafe - Colfax Ave. (Studio City)

January 17th, 2016 - (Codie and Bill's Choice)

I may or may not have agreed to eat an entire gallon of lentil soup the night before this brunch. Let me explain:

I love lentil soup. To be more specific, I love MY DAD'S lentil soup. I cannot eat it anymore, as it contains three different kinds of sausage and some beef. But it still makes my mouth water to think of it. And it makes my stomach turn somersaults to remember just how much of it I consumed as an adolescent child.


Well, I proclaimed my love of lentil soup at Greg Heaton's birthday gathering. And when I did so, I did it with a sweeping exaggeration that I often use when I want to "make a point" about something. I said, something along the lines of, "I would happily just sit down and eat a gallon of lentil soup instead of an entree." Then someone said they would like to see that. A few beers later, I found myself "shaking hands on it" for the lentil soup challenge.

The challenge:

I will eat one gallon (measured) of lentil soup over a 6 hour period. There will be no getting up from the table until it is done. I may have one bathroom break. If I throw up any time during the challenge, I lose. If I throw up three hours after the challenge, or before, I lose. If I do not finish the gallon in six hours, I lose. ...I really need to stop finding shit like this funny.

Of course, nothing about that has anything to do with brunch this time around.

Jinky's Studio Cafe - On the corner of Ventura Blvd. and fucking nowhere.

Chili. It's what makes America... um... well, unhealthy, and downright stinky with a nasty case of diarrhea. But God DAMN, it's good. We don't care if we see blood in our stool. We're going to eat three - no - FOUR bowls. We'll deal with and suffer the consequences later! And so will everyone else in the room! And, perhaps, that is a perfect analogy for the way the people in our country conduct themselves.

I cannot have a great variety of chili. I am a pescetarian, you see, and I have yet to see a seafood chili. I'm sure it exists. I'm not sure it would be good. So I settle for vegetarian chili, and I suffer the look of judgement I receive as I order it.

Jinky's does chili. And it does chili well. At any given moment they serve seven different kinds of chili ranging in spiciness on a scale of 1-10. Most every dish they offer comes with this chili, and any omelet you order comes covered in a chili of your choosing.

I ended up having a Sherman Oaks Omelet. Simple spinach, mushroom and feta. It was topped with the one veggie chili they served. Spicy factor: 4. It left a little tingle in my mouth, but nothing that truly lasted. The breakfast potatoes were a little underdone, but I think that was a style thing. The while idea behind the place was that you got a MESS of food. They tasted perfectly fine, they just didn't have that individual munch that I have grown attached to during brunches. That's rye bread in the corner.

Bill came out of hiding, everyone! He decided not to be a loser this time! And he got a good solid scramble. I think it was the chili jumble plate, but I am not quite sure. Spicy factor: 6. I would have given it a 7, except that the spice was more middle-eastern than anything else. It didn't leave a BURN so much as a FLAVOR. Which, I suppose, is the sign of a good chili. There was just something weird about seeing a chili, but tasting a curry.

Codie, true to form, got the banana crepes with Nutella. Spicy factor: 0. Sugar factor: 15. I do not understand why they add an optional pat of butter. Seems like there's enough going on in this plate, but I suppose some people just need their milk product. The sprig of parsley on the side amuses me. Like it's saying, "seriously, guy. This plate is a totally valid and healthy option. Go on. Relax. I'll be here. And I won't judge."

The bill ended up being around $15-$17 a person. That includes a personal pot of coffee for me, and a couple of sodas for them. Not only is it reasonable, but the absolute MURDER of food that you get makes every penny work for you. Once you get through the bible of a menu, you won't be disappointed.

With Phillip "One Gallon" Meyer, Codie "Good Noodle" Beck, and Bill "You Have to Eat the Sour Cream" Neitz.

http://www.jinkys.com/Studio-City.html

The Hart and the Hunter - Melrose Ave.

January 10th, 2016 - (Phil's Choice)

Today, I was invited to brunch by a man whom I have been trying to get to brunch with me for the entire time I've lived in Los Angeles. And that man's name is Chris Roach.

I assure you all that, right now, that man's beard is no longer so lumberjack-esque. His beard is tight and trim. He looks like a man who could pound six mimosas before noon and then start partying for 12 hours straight. This trim bearded fellow and I were joined by Tamara this brunch. As one might expect from a massively bearded man, a young woman of Irish descent, and myself, there were many stories about mistakes in drinking. But all of it happened at a place that welcomed the casual AND the picky.

The Hart and the Hunter - Located inside the Pali Hotel. It has all the upper-class woodsman charm of the outside of the hotel. A perfect place for Chris's beard.

Okay, I'm going to start off with the bad stuff: They didn't have just regular drip coffee. It was espresso drinks only. They DID have mimosas. (YAY!) Bottomless mimosas. (YAY!) For $15 per person. (...okay! Not horrible!) I attempted to order just one mimosa, and they said it would cost $12. (...um, what?) Aside from the mimosas, they did not serve any other cocktails. Wine and beer drinks, only. I'm sure if I wanted a brass monkey, they could have arranged that for me, but I wasn't in the mood to dance with the funky monkey.

Good Stuff: Just about everything else. I ordered the "Greens & Grains" dish with a side of grits.

My love of quinoa is rivaled only by my love of the egg. Add avocado, chives, and some spicy peppers and you've got a wonderful, colorful dish served sunny side up. The greens & grains LOOKED fantastic. And was very good. But the grits are what won me over. Lightly buttery, not too creamy, not too solid, but still a little something to them. Totally worth the extra money.

Tamara enjoyed the Croque Madam off their menu. She was only able to get through about 3/4 of it and she said it was a little heavy. It looked just right.

That sauce is probably what did her in, now that I look closer at it. Or maybe it's the fact that she's the size of a large pecan. Either way, it has some weight to it.

I just want to pay a little bit of attention to the wonderful china that we're eating off. It's like dining in my grandmother's kitchen for thanksgiving, or some other big event. I can almost hear her best friend, Millie, talking about her nephews, and the tragedies of modern youth not paying enough attention to the classics like Frank Sinatra.

Chris has the grits, with some avocado toast.

He had to eat the toast with a fork and knife. Which was amusing to me. Would have been more amusing if there had been more beard for it to get stuck in. It didn't look like he had much for brunch, but he did. Add six mimosas to the count, baby. Why? Because he's a fucking professional, that's why. And such a professional that he looked around after Tamara and I had left and said to himself, "you know what? I've got a good solid buzz going. I could go take a nap... OR I could call up some friends and get this party started!"

At 11:30pm that night, I received a text from him that simply stated "I've been drinking for the last 12 hours! Fucking brunch!" That's right, Chris. Brunch is a champion's meal. And, in the tradition of the gay men of Boy's Town in Chicago, you have just brunched from 10am to 11pm. Brunch isn't just a single meal, ladies and gentlemen, it's a state of mind. And it is one that you may choose to exit or re-enter at any point in the day. Just be ready for the fallout once the dust has settled.

The price points are a little high for the amount of food that you get. It was portioned well, for sure, I just would have liked to see the bill come out to $22 per person instead of $30 for what was ordered. But the quality is good, the place has a fantastic feel, and it's kinda trendy.

Warning: They recommend reservations for the weekend around brunch time. They get booked up real quick. We were lucky to have 90 minutes at our table from a walk-in.

With Phillip "I Can't Feel my Teeth" Meyer, Tamara "I Swear I'm not Drunk" Burgess, and Christopher "90 Day Bus Pass" Roach

http://www.thehartandthehunter.com/

Bea Bea's - Pass Ave. (Burbank)

January 3rd, 2016 - (Phil's Pick, but not Phil's Find)

I played tennis with Greg yesterday. And I beat him. At least, I won the full set we played. (6-4) We had to stop because of a party we needed to go to. Greg was ahead 4-3 when we quit. Also, I think neither of us wanted to admit how gassed our arms were after one and a half sets of ACTUAL serving and REAL volleying. Win or lose, it's REALLY fun. (Did I say that all the other times when I lost? I can't remember...)

Today I chose to break in the New Year of brunching at a place that was introduced to me by the one-and-only Ann Beckette - the original brunch buddy. She showed me this place all the way back in August before I even had a job in this city of fallen angels.

Bea Bea's - Customers who wish to dine outdoors get to choose between a lovely view of the grocery store parking lot, and looking out over one of the worst merging lanes on Pass Ave.

Kat Covell joined me this morning/afternoon. And just like the last time we went brunching, we were sat at the bar. It seems just right that the two ex-touring crew people would eat their meals at a bar. (No alcohol, though. It's not REALLY a crew bar)

Our wait time was around 25 minutes, so I drug her across the street to the starbucks to get a coconut milk flat-white. It was fine, but I certainly didn't need it, as the first thing that I ordered when I sat at the bar was black coffee. Silly reflexes.

Florentine Benedict. FLORENTINE BENEDICT. FLORENTINE BENEDIIIIIIIICT!!!!!
Kat had the...you know what? I don't think that is a Florentine Benedict. Well, whatever. I got the second part right.

Bea Bea's got the whole thing right. Those are PERFECTLY poached eggs. Exactly as runny in the center as they should be, but not slimy. Immediately following this picture, Kat dumped about 8 ounces of hot sauce on the plate.

I went for the self-titled "Bea Bea's Omelet." Asparagus, avocado, spinach, peppers, jalapeno, and a WHOLE lot of feta. I don't know if you can see it, but there is a massive chunk of soft feta cheese on the top of the omelet.

Last week I sort of thought to myself, "I guess there's not much you can do with an omelet. It's just eggs and veggies. Perhaps it can only get so good before it's all just one and the same." Let me tell you right now that that is not true. Anyone can make an "okay" omelet. And it'll get the job done. But Bea Bea's added flair to it. Not only in the looks, but also in the substance. This omelet had basil tones in there, with a little bit of jalapeno for some kick. The right balance of veggies for texture, as well as the right amount of cheese for the whole thing. Not overpowering, but certainly a feature.

Between two people for those platters and coffee, it was about $30. Not horrible at all. If you are thinking about eating here, please do not be discouraged by the lines. There is always a wait for this place. Often times they will tell you it'll be 30 minutes. It'll really be 15. And it's worth the wait.

I will tell you now that this place is known primarily for its waffles, french toast and pancakes. One thing in particular that gets high accolades are the green tea pancakes. Ann had them when I first came here, and she professed they were delicious. If you're looking for brunch in this area, and you've got a hankering for some food that'll sit with you for a while, look no further than Bea Bea's. Their kids are ready to fill your bellies with brunchy goodness.

With Phillip "Garlic Press" Meyer, and Kat "Creepy Mom Gift" Covell.

https://www.facebook.com/Bea-Beas-215911686420/

Fratelli Cafe - Melrose Ave. (Hollywood)

December 27th, 2015 - (Phil's Random-Ass Pick)

This last weekend Greg spanked me down in another tennis matchup. 6-0. The set was over so fast that we had only used two thirds of the time that we paid for on the court. But two things heal all wounds: Time, and brunch. And, quite frankly, I just didn't have the time to nurse the beating my pride took after that one.

Fratelli Cafe - On the corner of Melrose and Formosa. Their breakfast burritos are highly reviewed, but they protest that their true claim to fame is that Kim Kardashian has eaten there once.

It seemed that there was an equal amount of seating inside and outside. I am almost always one to choose outside seating, as I enjoy the open atmospheres, even in the winter time. The outdoor seating area was surrounded by thick plastic covers to shield people from the bone-chilling 68 degree winds. Their signature dark roast coffee also helped warm us up, though it was nothing that Starbucks couldn't have done back in 1992.

I had the Fratelli omelet. Smoked salmon, capers, olives, spinach... everything that an itallian-lover would ask for. While the omelet wasn't BIG, it certainly had a lot of WEIGHT to it. It really seemed that there was an entire fillet of salmon in there. Not too many capers, and a healthy portion of mushrooms.

Greg had the Shakshuka, which I felt was the real highlight of the brunch. I'm not much of a fan of tomatoes at all. Also, I don't know about you, but the LOOK of the dish didn't exactly inspire my tastebuds to acrobatics in anticipation. But there was a perfect balance of garlic seasonings, with pepper and something else that gave it a slightly Mediterranean feel.

Honestly, there wasn't a whole lot to the place. It was the Paul Rudd of brunch places: You weren't DISAPPOINTED by anything. It was GOOD. Just not EXCITING, or INTERESTING in the way you were hoping for. I will add, however, that this place is pretty well known for it's croissanwiches and breakfast burritos, more than anything else. Perhaps I didn't get it at it's best. I certainly did get it at it's nominally good.

The food was well done, the area is cute, and the price was good. If you're in the area, and you just need a place to sit a spell and have some eggs with good stuff in them, Fratelli Cafe is not too shabby.

With Phillip "I Love You, Man" Meyer, and Greg "Wanderlust" Heaton.

http://www.fratellicafe.com/