I make too many snap judgments for my own good. When it comes to restaurants, I’m particularly guilty of this. If the lighting looks odd or the signage is outdated, I become easily skeptical and it takes a truly fabulous meal to turn my mind around. This weekend however, I had quite the opposite experience when I walked into a restaurant and felt instantly at home—snap judgment spot on.
It was a lazy Sunday morning and my boyfriend and I decided we’d treat ourselves to brunch in his new neighborhood—Bay View—in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. We are, to put it lightly, breakfast connoisseurs in both the cooking and consumption fields so we take our breakfast spots seriously. Given that he just moved to a new part of town and I was in the city for a visit, it seemed like the right time to explore our options in the neighborhood, and that’s how we found Honeypie.
When you walk in the door, you see that the restaurant is small and the tables are full—a good sign during the brunch rush—but also that the wait is short. We sat down within ten minutes, just enough time to take in the cozy, charming and slightly eccentric décor: old portraits, linoleum floors, wooden booths, and a map of Bay View on the wall solidly anchoring Honeypie in its location. There is pride and history in this place; we could tell right away.
The service was flawless and we had coffees in our hands seconds after the request had left our lips. Real Wisconsin maple syrup in a plastic bottle on the table was all I needed to tell me that this breakfast would blow our minds. Scanning the menu, we were both immediately confronted with tough decisions—breakfast casserole or scallops benedict or classic farmers breakfast—but we also spotted something that we didn’t have any trouble deciding on: two corn bread muffins with honey bourbon butter and blueberry jam. Sold. We had that to start, followed by an elaborate breakfast burrito on one side of the table and the quiche of the day on the other. It was the most heavenly quiche I have ever encountered—large and impossibly fluffy, with bits of tomato and bacon enveloped inside, and a light, buttery crust cradling the bottom. I’m betting it’s rich, fluffiness was due to a massive amount of cream folded within, plus high quality, farm fresh eggs. This quiche was, in all senses of the word, perfection. I’m told the breakfast burrito was pretty spot-on too, but I was too full to confirm that.
Once we cleaned our plates, the waitress came ‘round right on cue to ask whether we had saved room for one of their mountainous, juicy-looking pies in the bakery case. Sadly we had not, but at my boyfriend’s suggestion, we rounded out our meal with a salty dog [added the link because I knew someone would ask] split between the two of us. On par with the pacing of the rest of the morning, the waitress assured us we could linger as long as we liked, so we paused to sip and read some choice New Yorker articles while the afternoon crept in.
It was the most delightful Sunday morning. My positive instincts were right on and I couldn’t be happier for it. If you’re ever in Milwaukee, find this place.
And if you’re looking for another review of the place from a few year’s back, here’s On Milwaukee’s take (which the second photo is from).