Brunch Review: Graze

I am admittedly really good at a lot of things, you guys, and I am not bashful about saying so. But out of all of the vast number of things I excel at, being a brunch patron is probably pretty near the top of the list. 

WHERE DID YOU DINE THIS MORNING? This morning found me at Graze on Madison’s Capitol Square. Well, by ‘morning,’ I mean 1:30pm. I slept in. I’m entitled.

CAN YOU GET A SEAT IN THERE IF YOU’RE NOT A HIPSTER? Yes. Have no fear. The hipsters won’t bite. Admittedly, the first few times I ate at Graze, I was very aware and highly self-consious about my lack of cool in comparison with much of the staff. My jeans, for example, are not nearly tight enough around my crotch (I can’t, unfortunately, afford to spend my paycheck on a pair of pants at Context), my sweet beard is virtually non-existant at this point, and I have an almost embarrassing void of tattoo ink on my forearms. That being said, I do believe I have been accepted among the fold–or at least enough to not be completely shunned by the bar staff. Tipping well doesn’t hurt.

WHY DO YOU HATE HIPSTERS? I don’t! In fact, I was called a hipster just this week by my small friend Smutty because I wear my sweatshirts “too tight” and my headphones are “too big.” Whatever that means. I also wear Wayfarer sunglasses. I’m cool with it. Suck it, Smutty.

OK, GET ON WITH IT. Right-o.

WHAT DID YOU EAT? Their chicken fried steak and eggs with potatoes and toast. Delicious. The eggs were hella fluffy, and whatever kind of gravy they served with the chicken fried steak really tied the whole meal together in a very Lebowski-like fashion. The potatoes, by the bye, were fancy hash-browns. Delicious, buttery fancy hash-browns.

BEVERAGE OF CHOICE? Coffee. Black coffee. And keep it coming.

WHAT, NO BRUNCKING? I try to only brunck when I am accompanied by another responsible adult(s) in a Sunday Funday situation. Or when working off a hangover. Today, neither was the case.

WAIT, WHAT DOES ‘BRUNCK’ MEAN AGAIN? Brunck = Brunch + Drunk

HOW WAS THE SERVICE? Interesting you should ask. A number of acquaintances of mine have had horrible experiences with the service at Graze. Or lack thereof (i.e. They’ve been ignored. Not hipster-looking enough perhaps? Maybe they should try wearing tighter sweatshirts…). I myself have had a generally positive experience with the staff. Aside from one mustachioed bartender who looks like he belongs in a barbershop quartet of douche rockets. For that reason, I generally attend brunch on Saturdays when D. and C. are manning the bar (Not sure if I should print their full names.). They will take good care of you. It is also worth noting that any time I have been in the dining room, the waitstaff has been very attentive. Not to mention ATTRACTIVE. Yowza. To whomever does the hiring: nicely done, sir (I can only imagine a man does the hiring. Wow.).

DEEP THOUGHTS? I dig this place, and I embrace its somewhat pretentious foodie nature because they embrace their pretentious foodie nature with an adventurous menu that is constantly being updated and altered depending on what is available and in season locally. The atmosphere is beautiful and bright, and the food has generally been top-notch. And just the right amount of grub–I’ve never left so full I’ve wanted to blow my brains out. Which is a plus. That would be a shitty, messy way to go.

The Graze Logo is courtesy of