I was pretty excited heading to this place for brunch, not because of the venue, but because I was meeting an old college roommate of mine. We never miss a beat and end up laughing the entire time! Overall, I enjoyed the brunch because of the company and the feel of the place, but what I ordered was turrrible.
The waitress was decent but nothing to write home about. She forgot to bring syrup with pancakes (blasphemy!) and forgot that I ordered a drink until something tripped her memory. She was friendly overall, but absolutely not on her A game. Maybe B-. Pushin' it. The layout of the place was supurb. Classy and cozy at the same time. It had a large solarium as the prime seating area, focused around a large, stone fire pit. The area was designed smartly so you could soak up some vitamin D in the summer, and cuddle up by the fire in the winter. The "scene" was a fairly suburbia one, and I can make the assumption with confidence that most were families and young couples kicking off their day of shopping with brunch.
My menu selections started out well enough. The pomegranate mimosa was pretty tasty, however, I would've preferred a slightly higher champagne to juice ratio. The fresh fruit plate was a-plenty, and a great variety: berries, melons and pineapple. In most cases, it's all the shit melons. I was hoping it would escalate from there with my entrée, but it went South. The dirty South. I asked for my eggs to be a little more on the firm side, but I didn't mean completely cooked through. It was like 2 hard boiled eggs on my English muffin. Whoever orders a hard boiled egg for brunch, or at all, for that matter?? The lack of hollandaise added to the dryness of the hard boiled egg; it was garnish-like being a very slight drizzle. I would've been better off asking for it on the side. And bland. The potatoes appeared to be seasoned well, however, it turned out it was simply because they were overcooked-a new subtle season that I'm not aware about? The grilled tomatoes were OK, but could've used more oregano/basil, or perhaps a balsamic vinegar splash. I hardly choked down one Egg Benedict and took the other to-go (for sustenance in case I had absolutely nothing in my fridge later), but ended up throwing it away after we left, since I didn't want to carry it around as we perused some furniture shops.
I would be willing to give Second Home another whirl because the set-up was so nice, but order something on the "safer", more elementary side next time. Like pancakes. Or scrambled eggs. Or champagne. Can't mess that one up.
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