Faith & Flower - Los Angeles

I'm not a fan of Faith & Flower, and at first, it's not their fault. It's the morning after my bachelorette, and they're serving brunch to a boisterous bunch, nursing hangovers from hell.

There's nothing they can do except keep the water glasses filled and make minimal amounts of noise, and they do that on the regular. And they do make a great Iced Coffee. Even the worst of my nausea takes a hard hit after a couple of sips. It's like my gag reflex moved out of the way just so I could swallow some cold brew.

Caffeinated clarity be damned, I still can't quite handle eggs. The Deviled Jidori Eggs are fun to steal from unsuspecting bridesmaids, though. The white is supple, soft as memory foam. A gentle infusion of chili kimchee and black sesame sprinkle give us a gentle kick out of our post-vodka stupor. The yolks are a beautiful blend, smooth as cream, barely-there mayo gluing the whole mix together.

I need something light and cold, and the Scallop Ceviche will do just fine. The scallops are tender discs that melt like butter mints. The sea of yuzu aguachile brews a citrus storm, and the taro chips are the best thing my headache had all day.

The heavier stuff is rough, but I can't blame the dull Downtown LA Breakfast on the hangover. It is blah, so blah. The eggs are scrambled with nothing, not even a detectable amount of salt. Even the chorizo, which is usually a colorful crumble, makes a dry hash with cotija cheese that settles like dust. This dish is cut-and-dry, emphasis on the dry. 

The Kimchee Cornbread comes highly recommended. The cornbread itself is satiating, sweet and toasty in its skillet, but it would do better without the fondue. A white river of non-gravy, non-sauce, it's just cream with a few drops of kinda-sorta-gravy.

Lately, Faith & Flower has been one of the most hyped-up restaurants in LA. Creating a stir with its "Californian" cuisine, DiscoverLosAngeles boasts of its delicious, innovative dishes, but his brunch has made me lose some faith in Faith and Flower. They serve some pleasant plates, but it feels like a potpourri of promising bulbs that have yet to bloom. If this is a taste of California, then I guess the flavor would be called "mildly delicious indifference".