I’d say that Redbird is conveniently located downtown, near LA City Hall, except that nowhere downtown is convenient—or safe—anymore. Once you have stepped over the usual number of napping homeless people en route, however, you’ll find yourself in a building sufficiently shielded from the noisome streets by an unassuming, but sturdy, façade, a flight of stairs, and a trio of friendly parking valets posted at the entrance. Elevated from the dreary street level by that flight of stairs is our featured restaurant for this month’s Sunday brunch. Somewhat schizophrenic in its layout, Redbird is divided into two equally elegant dining areas: a cozy, secluded, quiet (at least, at lunchtime) section that is all dark brown leather seats and dim lighting, and, adjacent to that, a bright, airy, vibrant space where apparently all the fashionable lunch crowd congregates. That is, if you consider faux fur coats in April fashionable. Sitting amidst all this haute couture in my Eileen Fisher, I didn’t feel particularly fashionable myself, but then I remembered, I really don’t care (do u?).

My cushioned seat was tolerably comfortable (we had put in a special request when making the reservation that we be given one of the tables with bench seating, on account of my tailbone pain), and sitting there surrounded by all that natural light from the spring sunshine outside filtering freely in through the skylights, I felt as safe as a bird in a secure cage. The attendants in this giant birdcage were easily identifiable by their pale pink shirts and white aprons as they bustled with alacrity between the tables. In the case of our particular waitress, the alacrity was perhaps, a tad excessive? It felt like we had barely been handed our menus when she returned to our table to take our orders. We deduced from this that the restaurant is likely predominantly frequented by regulars already familiar with their offerings; Charlie and I, however, asked for a few minutes more to analyze the menu. After making my menu selections, I went in search of the ladies’ room to wash my hands and examine its condition.

The well-lighted, spacious, and faux-marbled glamorous restrooms are, to me at least, another important attractive feature of this venue. But Redbird’s most unexpectedly delightful asset is the rooftop garden beyond its indoor dining areas. Apparently, this space may be rented for private parties, but although regular customers can’t eat there, there was nothing to stop Charlie and I from exploring this tiny plot of greenery after our brunch (and from taking unreasonable numbers of silly photos in it).