I never expected to find this place in random strip mall in the middle of Torrance. The décor is done by the hippest of the hipsters, influenced by the best kind of nerd. Transplant it to Venice or a side street in LA, and I would believe it a little more.
The attention to detail is crazy. Each antique chandelier is differently funky and unique, and I could write a review about their lighting alone. So much care went into the decor, yet so little seeps into the service. We went for a weekend brunch and were given a folder, yes, a folder, stuffed with every menu the restaurant ever made. Only two were relevant, and it took a moment to figure out which ones those were.
I'm already a little cranky after having to work for my order, and I'm no happier with my Moon Over Endor. All sugar, and that's all there is.
So I'm more cranky and looking for the kind of southern comfort that only comes bottled...or in a plate of biscuits and gravy like the Greg Stevens. The biscuits are a bit dry, but the salty sausage gravy softens it up some. The smooth gray river does have a nice hint of herbs.
It's not the south without a hearty helping of Breakfast Fried Chicken & Waffle, but this one was as boring as its name. The chicken is fried with a thick, crispy batter with a hint of maple and no other detectable flavors. The organic chicken is meaty and clean, but James Republic does it better. I could have done without the tired-tasting waffle and afterthought scramble.
Man, this place had potential, but it's like no one here ever went to the south. The food is like a low-quality Snapchat that someone tried to fix with a filter. The food isn't bad, but it lacks an element of genuineness (apparently that's a word) and authenticity. It's hard/impossible to find good southern food in SoCal, and this one isn't it.