For this month’s gastronomic adventure, Charlie and I thought we would mix things up a bit and do a daytime thing instead of our usual dinner; specifically, we decided on a Sunday brunch. Meet you at the restaurant at 8 a.m.? Or 9? Both the break in routine and the luxurious connotations of a Sunday brunch beckoned to and enticed me all month long. I mean, is there anything more deliciously decadent than waking up to a nice, hot cup of coffee and the Times, putting on one’s mascara with careful, unhurried precision, then meeting a friend for a lovely chat over a full-course breakfast? Realistically, however, to carry out such a plan would’ve meant waking up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday, so, NOPE. Certainly not on a Sunday that started with rain in the morning, because as we all know, a.m. rain is the universe’s way of telling us to sleep in. If god existed (she doesn’t), it would be downright blasphemous to wake up too early on a rainy Sunday morning. Thanks to the Magnolia House’s flexible definition of “brunch” (which they serve from 9 a.m. – 2:30 p.m.), however, we were able to do our brunch at a much more reasonable hour (i.e., 12 p.m.).
Arriving right on time for our noon reservation (and I do recommend making one; judging by the crowd we witnessed, it would be risky to attempt a walk-in during Sunday brunch at this venue), I was immediately shown to our table for two by the hostess. As a matter of fact, I must’ve passed by this place on Lake Avenue a hundred times before without realizing that it was a restaurant; the “Magnolia House” sign at the entrance seems deliberately faded and inconspicuous, and the squat building itself is generic and nondescript. From the outside, at least, there is nothing to suggest that this is a venue featured on the “Visit Pasadena” website for its historic value, having been built over 100 years ago. Once inside, the quaintness of the place begins to dawn on you, as you observe some of the “bizarre artwork” also mentioned on visitpasadena.com. The photos on that website are somewhat misleading though, as they make the venue appear bigger than it actually is. The restaurant interior is made to seem like a rustic, old-timey home, with plaid sofas, framed portraits and photographs, and miniature antlered heads mounted on papered walls. There’s even a functional fireplace with a real fire burning. Our tiny wooden table (and it really was tiny, upon which the arranging of plates, glasses, and condiments became a constant game of Fit It) came with two tweed armchairs on either side. The entire effect was quite cute, albeit a bit cramped; a trip to the restroom, for example, requires some adroit choreography to navigate between patrons seated—with the backs of their chairs nearly touching–on both sides of one’s path. Sitting there, on my armchair upholstered in green tweed, was both comfortable and simultaneously uncomfortable. The brunch crowd made a brunch crowd din, which the sound system, blasting oldies from the 60’s(?) at too loud a volume, did its best to drown out. After a large party in front of our table left, the noise level died down a bit and it became a pleasanter place to relax and enjoy a meal.
The “just like home” theme was reflected even in the attires of the waitstaff, who wore jeans and were distinguishable from the customers only by the little aprons they sported. A quick skimming of the Yelp reviews of this place revealed a lot of mixed opinions about the friendliness of the staff. I was curious to see whether, on our visit, we would be served by Jekyll or Hyde. In the end, however, we didn’t encounter any of the service issues mentioned in previous reviews; I was shown to our table promptly upon arrival, our orders were taken and served with alacrity, and, despite some confusion over who exactly our server was (a couple of different servers interacted with us during our meal), everyone who approached our table was friendly and efficient.
