Every city has a forgotten borough. New York had its Brooklyn, Boston has its Brookline and Jamaica Plain, and Los Angeles has its Long Beach. Quiet in the shadow of the South Bay's domestic bliss, hippy-dippy Long Beach is often overlooked.
The truly commendable restaurants seem few and far between, but James Republic makes a staunch stand for the best brunch award. I hate hotel restaurants, but this is one serves farm-to-table fare, and damn, they know what they're doing.
Even the drip Coffee is praise-worthy. You think the rich, medium-to-dark roast is good? You haven't lived until you try it in a mason jar with ice.
Coffee goes so well with the Cronut, which lacks the upscale pretentiousness that usually follows this NYC-transplant dessert. They keep it simple, with none of the soggy, soaking pasty creams that most other bakeries use. The vanilla glaze encases chewy, fluffy croissant dough, probably the best dough I've ever had.
The Carnitas Benedict curb a carnal craving with an ice cream scoop-sized ball of slow-cooked braised pork. The sope is basically a Mexican muffin, and unlike the Spanish Armada, the English lose. James Republic also remains one of few places that knows how to poach a proper egg.
I may be a southern girl at heart, but North Carolina never fed me Chicken and Waffles this good. The maple gastrique infuses maple syrup minus the sticky fingers. So much chicken with so much waffle can get icky, but the sharper pickled watermelon rind with sweet peaches and crisp arugula lightens the load, and the creme fraiche is a cool-down.
I almost don't want to talk about Long Beach to all the other "boroughs" because I feel like James Republic is their best-kept secret. They cut some of the best flavor bouquets I've had to date, and once word gets out, even more foodies will come flocking.
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