"The Sunny Spot" Venice, CA - When Trying isn't an Option

When it comes to The Sunny Spot, ambiance is everything.

For some, what sets the perfect tone is moody lighting, and white tables, but not me. I like to think I’m living on the millennial edge, always looking for that differentiating factor, or of similar nomenclature, the “wow factor.” I’m all about the #DRAKE, henny at the bar, instant gratification (#erhem eyecandy), great music I can listen to and turn-up to.

So, when my slightly, delirious self, stumbled into the Sunny Spot and I saw the hostess in a hat that I immediately recalled my significant other distastefully choosing a few days earlier, I was sure if nothing else happened today, my brunch was going to be interesting.

At that moment, I probably should have turned around, but this all too obvious and tell-tell sign that set the experiential standard for service that afternoon (which actually equated to that of a swine’s ass),was jaded by my overall peak of interest to find an environment where I thought to myself, “finally, a place that isn’t trying...” I’d soon reckon that this thought was a God-sent omen.

With no reservations, in LA, and even for the simple fact that I was looking for bottomless mimosas, it was going to be a hard task to find a good place to eat. And I knew from the yelp reviews, that this may not be the most posh restaurant experience but, I would be, at least, around young professionals, and/or want-to-bes, who are looking to enjoy their Sunday.

But, what I walked into was the liquor store version of a decrepit foyer in a gothic century home. Now no shade, if that’s you, I am all for really cute, glitzy, with a smidgen of glam; like come on stained concrete floors throughout, a gorgeous chandelier, cute furniture, glass table, etc., it was so close, but the liquor store equivalent I got included cracked ceilings, an old and very exhausted red lamp (made to look like a chandelier), rickety tables from, World’s Largest Rickety Tables Emporium Inc., and chairs that I’m sure came from Elton John’s last yard sale. One could maybe find solace in the patio that gives you basic things, light, chairs, and candles on a table.

But even at the bar, there were at least 8 bottles under the sink, right next to the garbage disposal bin, because the bar shelfs, that I swear to God, I hope were DIY, were too small, and probably not that secure – The verdict on this décor is guilty of #HauteMess in the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd degree.

I’ll spare you the excruciating details of a less than enthusiastic menu that skips sweet options completely on the brunch menu, and where 6 things on that menu were either sent back to the kitchen, asked to be removed from the check because they caused visceral reactions, or were the subject of suggestions of things to avoid from those also dining, and just say, order the shrimp and grits! They are actually half decent – maybe, they could have used (salt) a different shrimp (and salt) or maybe even (salt) prawns but still not too too bad (USE THE SALT).

Around 10 minutes in, and one horrible cocktail (Coconut Jubliee) that the bartender actually seemed really excited to push and then told me, “I need to wait before I drink it” in, we get our food. I abandon the piss-poor cocktail that is actually rum watered down by shaven ice, and garnished with basil leaves, to force feed myself the overpriced and utterly flavorless mimosas.

Now if this is your first time on an adventure with me, you will be new to this fact, I AM A DRINKER! I love drinks, good ones, strong ones, sweet ones, bitter ones, all of them, and I also love to know ingredients that go into them; it’s amazing what people discover and create in the world of mixology. Actually for me, there is only one thing worse than a bad drink, and that is a nasty, rushed, lazy, and unintelligent bartender!

The bartender, at brunch is the rock of the service and today we had two on duty who I think made some less than ideal decisions that made me question their service industry training.

For instance when I order something I don’t like, and tell you that it’s not good, its dry, even if I tell you it is as tough as a good year tire, and the presentation makes it look like dog food, its your job to say and do 3 things:

• Remove the plate

• Get me a menu

• Find the manager

At the Sunny Spot, they have a different protocol, they haggled my guest on whether or not we could afford a surcharge for another brunch item, then I had to beg, then demand to review the menu again, and I don’t think I ever saw a manager.

Serious loss here guys!

Also I almost forgot to mention that I heard some less than “cool” dialogue come from another bartender when I queried him on the recipe of a cocktail someone ordered. Now, I’m not sure why race or sexual orientation was up for discussion at this restaurant establishment, but plain and simple, it was and it made me very uncomfortable.

There comes a point in a bad service, when you make up your mind to either walk away from the situation, or party anyway. This Sunday, and this bad service was a party anyway day, and I finished the afternoon with a couple of Kamikaze shooters (because you shouldn’t mess up vodka, lime juice, and triplesec). My guest who waited an additional 15 minutes to actually get her food, made for some good socializing, as I found out that most people who were there, came in with similar goals, and were having similar, if not worse, experiences.

Minus me having to triple check that all the things I needed removed from my check were actually deleted, I was out.

For this visit, I would have to give them 2 stars, I know they could do better, but even then, I don't think good consistency is a characteristic they are familiar with just yet.

But if nothing else, again, my shrimp and grits were good.