Libertine **2.5/5 stars

Libertine. A person, especially a man, who behaves without moral principles or a sense of responsibility, especially in sexual matters. Okay... That's the first online definition that pops up. The second is: Freethinking in matters of religion. Well, brunch is my religion. And that includes the freedom to eat and drink whatever I want before noon.

 

When you brunch the day after Halloween and the day after fully departing from a month-long detox, you get a little cray-say. Accompanied by Joe Dirt, Taylor Swift, and tranny Davey Crocket, we sashayed into Libertine prepared to have an "experience".

The interior has gotten a face lift, for sure. It's trendy, arty, upscale. Good color and texture. No more lunch lady homage. We were seated at a hard, wooden table with hard, wooden benches. Chic.

They were afraid they wouldn't find each other.

The menu has some great sounding stuff. We started with beverages, of course. For 8 whole dollars you can get more than a "regular" mimosa. I really like regular mimosas. Most of the time I prefer them. But the Star Child, for example, which has negroni and cava and lemon foam, is pretty fun. If you like the bitters, you'll like it.

Mork suspenders.

Or the Tiny Bubbles has sparkling white rum, guava and pineapple. Super fresh. Rum, it's not just for p.m. college binging anymore! It's for middle-aged day drinking! Sigh...

The basic "all you can drink for $14" bloodies are...okay. Kinda watery. But then it's easier to drink more of them. Bonus. Our waiter informed us (apparently we looked like trouble) that the "cut-off" for the bottomless bloodies is 3pm. Now you know.

Let's get on to the food. Weird menu design. I like.

We got the lemon blueberry crepes Brunchitizer™. They were light and tart. But as far as I'm concerned, a crepe without Nutella and bananas barely exists. They're kinda transparent. Forgettable. If you're transparent, you'll love them. Obvi.

So pretty, so vain.

The biscuits and gravy were doughy. But Frenchy John likes them that way. Must be a french thing...

A gorgeous pile of scrambled eggs. These were incredible. Edible. Eggs.

I ordered a side of potatoes which were roasted and topped with creme fraiche. (I spelled that right the first time. Cha-ching.) A different kind of breakfast potato option. Greasy but good. You put anything in a skillet and I'm convinced it's been campfire cooked by some weathered but experienced, ruggedly handsome urban cowboy. How romantic.

Lamb and brie lucy. With fat finger potatoes. The potatoes here are cray-say.

We were told the fried chicken and jalapeno waffles were great here. I honestly have nothing to compare them to, but if this is what "great" C&W taste like, I'm sad. Kinda lacking in flavor all-together. You don't want hot peppers in your waffles. You just don't.

Confession: I didn't really like Libertine all that much. Seems they didn't sage this space enough. You can take the plastic plates off the wall, but the ghosts of Cafeteria's past are pulling a hair net over Libertine's style. They can still soft scramble my eggs any day.
Namaste.

The cast from "My So Called Brunch"