Dining Review: Julep Cast Iron Kitchen in Brea

“I had the kitchen put the sauces on the side so your fried chicken doesn’t get soggy,” explains the waiter as he places the entree before me at Julep in Brea. “The crust is so good, you can sauce as you go to better enjoy the chicken.” Wow, I think. This guy is really invested in this dish. I hope it’s worth the special delivery.

It is. The massive boneless breasts are juicy inside their craggy jackets of fried seasoned batter that yields the perfect measure of non-greasy crunch to each bite of chicken. Side cups of Dijon cream nestle beside heaping servings of garlic mashed potatoes and glistening green beans. Open since late December, Julep Cast Iron Kitchen + Drink is the newest offering from The Toast Group, six restaurants that lead with brunch fare, though Julep is the first to expressly promote dinner service. It inhabits the spacious venue once home to Jimmy’s Famous American Tavern in the upscale Village at La Floresta center.

Like Julep’s predecessor, the cuisine is unabashedly rich and undoubtedly not what the cardiologist ordered. To ensure a happy table, I invited guests known to be undaunted by dishes served piping hot from the deep fryer. Crispy corn fritters—golden nuggets of creamy corn lightly bound with flour and eggs—vanished while still perilously hot. Oaky bourbon notes in the maple side sauce tame the fritters’ sweetness, making it all too easy to down one after another.

Fried green tomatoes are a cut above here—with an ideal ratio of ultra-light breading to tart tomato slices. That the batter doesn’t immediately separate from the tomatoes shows the kitchen knows better than most. “Spicy” aioli that accompanies is curiously mild. Also in the fried appetizer lane, the generous portion of rock shrimp beignets seems to be on every table. The batter deflates and turns gummy once it cools, so don’t tarry. These would be better (and more expensive) if the shrimp were larger.

Baked to order and bigger than a frisbee, the soft-chewy Bavarian pretzel arrives on a hook flanked by cups of garlicky aioli and vivid mustard. Corn chowder satisfies with leeks, smoky bacon, and crunchy crouton garnish.

With a choice of 13 appetizers, you can easily make a meal without a single entree, especially if you include a salad. A classic trio of bitter greens—endive, watercress, and arugula—are keenly balanced with blue cheese, candied walnuts, and apple sherry vinaigrette. Kale gets the Caesar treatment with Parmesan, herb croutons, roasted pepitas, and avocado-garlic dressing. The house Cobb salad is a meal in itself, distinguished by grilled corn, eggs, avocado, and grilled chicken breast matched with a chile-mayo Louis dressing.

No surprise the terrific fried chicken appears in many modes—with coleslaw beside a lunch sandwich, as tenders on the kids’ menu, with waffles or eggs at brunch, and there’s also a version for vegans. But ignore chicken and you’ll find many worthy options. Tender, unmushy short rib is richly braised, as an entree or a trio of appetizer sliders. There’s cedar plank salmon at dinner, but flaky skinless trout is also an option. Spot-on medium-rare Hangar steak boasts a nice crust and deep flavor, a much beefier profile than the tender, finely grained filet. Passable pastas fall short of the classics that sustain serious pasta houses, but they do provide an alternate route for vegetarians.

Don’t be misled by Julep’s terminology, what’s called breakfast here is actually brunch, booze and all. It’s served on weekends, starting at 8 a.m. The house Benedict was oddly light on chorizo, no matter how hard I hunted through the cast-iron skillet. The trio of crepes was tough and not warm enough to loosen the wan fruit preserves and whipped mascarpone topping.

Though the basic layout is little changed, the aesthetic is now elevated with bold artwork, chandeliers, and brass animal lamp bases gleaming with art-nouveau feathers and dragonflies. Oversized framed vintage portraits of women in period dress dominate the walls. Cheekily altered with matching moths, the paintings are faintly surreal and impossible to ignore. The freestanding 16-stool bar is crowned with rows of whiskey bottles, lit from below. Of course there are overhead flatscreens, even on the handsome enclosed patio.

A daringly wide swath of cocktails almost guarantees winners and losers. There’s even a tiki selection, complete with kitschy tumblers—Ken-tiki Tea Spiller with dual rums is unforeseeably luscious, which explains its widespread presence during brunch. Also unexpected, a handsome mint julep only three swallows big that needs, literally, a rejiggering. Servers are uniformly agreeable and well informed. It’s not typical to find a server who speaks whiskey, wine, sauces, and menu fluently, but it happened here at dinner.

And about those cast-iron skillets—they seem more like serveware than cookware. I never touched one that was truly hot. It’s a bit of a conceit that’s amusing, but only if the fare is enjoyable. Julep chalks up plenty of points on that score, but it plays its best game at lunch and dinner. Time your visit accordingly for superior results.

3325 E. Imperial Highway

Brea

714-983-7364

5 Best Dishes

Price Range

FYI: O.C. siblings are Toast (Brea) and Mimosas (Anaheim Hills).