There’s something magical about brunch. It’s the one socially acceptable time to eat hollandaise before noon and pretend orange juice is just a health tonic (even if it costs five bucks). So off I went, on a sleepy Tuesday morning, to check out 30 Brunch House, the newest spot in Forney’s ever-expanding strip mall scene—this one tucked away near Tom Thumb like a well-seasoned secret.
When we walked in at 8:30 a.m., the place was mostly empty—which was just fine with me. Fewer people means fewer witnesses if I drop egg yolk on myself. The décor is clean and modern with a “transitional” vibe (read: someone watched a lot of HGTV). There’s a bar with a few spirits on display, and a visible kitchen so you can keep an eye on the culinary action—or confirm that your bacon is in fact, on the way.
Now, let’s talk ambiance. The music was a little… clubby. Like, “Is this brunch or am I about to order bottle service?” I wasn’t expecting Tiësto at sunrise. It’s Tuesday, and we’re not in Ibiza—we’re in Forney, where the only line I want to be on is the one for coffee.
Speaking of which: the coffee was fine. Not terrible, but not Waffle House-tier either, which is my gold standard for diner energy and caffeine-induced existential clarity. They do offer both vanilla creamer and half-and-half, which earns them a gold star for dairy diplomacy. The orange juice tasted fresh-squeezed, though at $5 a glass, it should also come with a side of financial counseling.
I ordered the Florentine Eggs Benedict, and my brunch companion went for the French toast with a side of bacon. And friends, it looked amazing. And this time, looks weren’t deceiving. The Benedict was a masterpiece—two perfectly poached eggs atop sautéed spinach and mushrooms, perched on English muffins and draped in silky hollandaise with a generous helping of housemade bacon bits. Nothing overcooked, nothing soggy. Balanced like a brunch trapeze artist. The hashbrowns were just okay—but honestly, the Benedict didn’t need a sidekick.
The French toast? Thick, eggy, golden perfection. A crisp outside, fluffy inside, paired with warm syrup and bacon that was cooked to that elusive middle ground between chewy and crispy—like the bacon equivalent of a hug.
Service was top notch. The waitress made sure our glasses were full, our coffee topped off, and our brunch experience unbothered by the outside world. She even smiled while delivering that $38.97 check—just shy of forty bucks for two entrees, coffee, water, and OJ. A bit steep, but not highway robbery by brunch standards.
We’ll definitely be back—for the food, for the service, and hopefully not for another round of Calvin Harris at 8 a.m.
Final Scorecard:
Food: 4 out of 5
Service: 5 out of 5
Atmosphere: 3 out of 5
Overall: 3.5 out of 5
Until next time, may your eggs be runny and your music age-appropriate.
— The Forney Foodie