Urban Eatery ***3/5 stars

Chances are, you've never even heard of this place. When my girl, Bernadette, suggested it for a ladies-only V-day brunch, I had to look it up. The first floor restaurant of the prestigious Mpls Beach Club changes hands on a regular basis. I'll save you my theories on this, but let's just chalk it up to location.

Topiary, yo.

We had to park in the garage as valet was closed on Sunday...WHAT? I always smirk when the parking attendant rolls away in my rusty Y2K Jeep. Park that one next to the beamer, Joe. They validate, but only up to like one hour. If you want to get into it with your girls, it's gonna take time.

Our table.

The space is bright and open. Nice lighting and wood accents. Cozy booths. Quotes. Lots of quotes. Okay: If you're gonna put a quote on the wall, make it like one really good thought-provoking one. Or at least weird enough that no one knows quite what it means. Or maybe...just don't put quotes on your walls. Chances are, you're not gonna pull it off.

The menu has some great variety. I'm pleasantly surprised. We, of course, had to grab a bottle of bubbles to start the day, Lamarca being one of my favorites. Knowing that most joints over-do the OJ to bubs ratio, we ordered a large OJ, on the side. But siphoning it into the drinks was not so easy. The server, not usually attentive, noticed our struggle and replaced the glass with a carafe. One point for her.

"The most dangerous thing to eat is a wedding cake." - said no one interesting

My Mimosa and Me

Brunchitzier™ was a giant blueberry lemon pancake mostly lacking in blueberries and lemon. But it soothed the "I'm single and this day is just a rude reminder, so I'm going to replace sex with carbs" cravings.

Here's the bloody. It's good.

You're getting a wide review of the menu selections today, starting with a most excellent Steak and Eggs on a crispy nest of hashbrowns. My poached eggs were on the side.

Mexican hash. The tiny skillet gets me every time.

Garden omelette for you gluten-free veg heads.

Breakfast sandwich with fondue cheese for the carb heads. Rarrr.

Nicki got the classic experimental "control". The potatoes were special cheesy loaded things.

So... the UE. It's totally dece for a 3-hour bitch fest. Service was meh. Food was better than okay. I bet the view is great on a summer day. If you play your cards right and go with the low-carb breakfast, maybe some silver fox will invite you up to the pool deck for a post-brunch lounge, after which he will fall madly in love with you. Then you can spend your V-day anniversary here, gazing sympathetically at the sad singles in the back booth man-bashing and drowing themselves in prosecco. You've come so far, baby.

The Sheridan Room **2.5/5 Stars

The Sheridan Room has big shoes to fill, occupying the old Modern in Northeast. It's all good. Where there was nothing, there is now something, something that also serves breakfast, and that's cool.

First scan of the bar area reveals an old receiver, turntable and vinyl collection. There is some evidence of life here.

But, aside from the warm, waxy bar, the ambiance leaves me feeling uneasy. The dining area is stark. Sterile. All hard lines and hard wood. Church pews and cold bathroom tile. Mirrors that creepily reflect the barren walls. I prefer to pray to the brunch gods on an altar where my ass doesn't fall asleep after one drink.

Nothin' sterile about these broads.

Suprise! Menu here is real basic. Say that with a drawl, like rulllll.... basic. Basic doesn't necessarily mean bad. I wish all the fancy ass cocktail bars I frequent would get back to basics and stop putting 18 ingredients into a glass with a square ice cube that takes up 85% of the space and charging $25 for it. People don't need myriad options. They need to stumble in with one eye open and half a functioning brain, see "basic breakfast",  grunt and bow their heads into a glass of cheap champagne and OJ rimmed with Pop Rocks. Yes, I said Pop Rocks.

That's real OJ, fool.

In all honesty the food here is totally decent. My salmon scramble was light and fresh and flavorful. Them greens, tho!

The basic was basic, but not laden with grease. I eat enough brunch that my arteries welcome a "cleaner" option.

And Kelly said the frittata was jammin'.

So, what up, Sheridan? Seems like you are tryin' a bit too hard to not try too hard. So you laid down a bunch of tile, walled up some booths and put a stack of records on the wall. I get it. I ain't mad at it. (© N. Paglia, 2016) Just put on some Floyd and pour me another.

That glass block, though.