Hartland’s, Long Beach’s best-view-of-the-ocean restaurant, goes all brunch, all day

Hartland’s, Long Beach’s perched-above-the-ocean, tucked-away sibling of Belmont Shore favorite Liv’s from Chef Rob White, is opting for all-day brunch. Bringing on Chef Zoe Moore for its third menu iteration—behind that of its first offering, along with an additional attempt at dinner—Rob is being both cognizant and nimble with a space that needs a heavy community connection in order to work.

“In a hospitality world that’s still spinning off its axis, we’re just trying to find what sticks,” Rob said when launching their dinner menu—and a quote that ultimately still stands. “First and foremost, I want people to enjoy the space. If that means a burger and a beer, cool…The goal is for the space to feel neighborhood-y without dumbing anything down.”

But in an updated sense, Rob is realizing that the space can’t be shifting through three menus—breakfast, lunch, and dinner—without being excessively taxed. Hence: brunch all day. It’s an incredibly smart move that not only plays to Long Beach’s love of breakfast but streamlines his kitchen in order to best suit both staff and patrons.

“We have an amazing space—and we want the community to know that,” Rob said. “And while we call it brunch, there’s honestly a little something for everyone.”

Add in the mimosas and beer and voila.

Hartland’s all-day brunch menu is perfect for the Long Beach group that can’t make a decision.

I always applaud business owners who shift and adapt when they need to. And Chef Rob’s menu is one that is both heartily brunch and deeply accessible.

There are salads galore—a welcomed addition to a brunch scene that has largely seen the diverse exchanged for the decadent.

Hartland’s take on the soba noodle salad is layered: cabbage and iceberg for crunch, soba for heartiness, avocado for fat, and a hit of mint and Thai basil that breathes a cooling effect to an already-cold dish. The grain bowl—never underestimate a grain bowl; regard: Noble Rotisserie—is all texture and contrast. Roasted squash and farro meet a poached egg, while chili oil adds a subtle heat (that I would request more of). Pickled onion and arugula keep things sharp, grounding what could be a sleepy bowl into an fulfilling option for those seeking a healthier dish.

And yes, there are shrimp’n’grits. Blackened shrimp resting on a bed of cheesy grits with a sweet-meets-tang tomato jam. Yes, there are plenty of omelettes. Yes, there are plenty of burritos. And yes, they kept their stellar burger on the menu.

But the real star? Hartland’s sausage biscuit sandwich. Simple on the surface—but sneaky in the details. A fluffy biscuit, slightly sweetened thank to maple butter. Happily spiced, house-made pork sausage. Soft—thank the Egg Gods—scrambled egg. Cheddar. Sweet, salty, rich, forthright in idea. Just a fabulous example of hiding the details in what is ultimately simplicity.

A look at some of the menu…

Sausage Biscuit Sandwich: House-made pork sausage | Soft-scrambled egg | Cheddar cheese | Maple butter

Breakfast Grain Bowl: Dressed arugula and farro | Roasted squash | Poached egg | Pickled onion | Avocado | Chili oil

Sesame Miso Salad: Soba Noodle | Cabbage | Iceberg | Avocado | Green onion | Snap pea | Cucumber | Thai basil | Mint | Sesame dressing

Rob’s Fried Chicken: Half boneless Jidori chicken | House-made coleslaw | Shoestring seasoned fried | Dill pickles

Shrimp and Grits: Blackened shrimp | Cheesy grits | Tomato jam

Hartland’s should be perpetually occupied. Its location is both its silver-lining and hurdle.

What makes Hartland’s special isn’t just the menu; it’s the whole setup. Perched above the lobby of 1900 Ocean, it’s technically right in the thick of Alamitos Beach, surrounded by one of the city’s densest stretches of dining—but somehow, it still feels like a secret. Getting there means getting buzzed in, heading upstairs, breezing past a salon, and suddenly stumbling into this hybrid space that’s part market, part wine bar, part neighborhood living room, and full-blown restaurant. It’s curated, sure—but it doesn’t feel curated. It feels lived in.

Even more, Rob knows the parking is a joke; he’s not pretending otherwise. This place is made for people already in motion. Because Hartland’s isn’t aiming to be some tucked-away foodie pilgrimage—it wants to be part of the neighborhood’s pulse. The people walking dogs. Pushing strollers. Running on empty from Ocean Boulevard to Broadway. And, most immediately, the hundreds of folks who live upstairs, one elevator ride away from a biscuit sandwich or bottle of wine.

“We’ve been figuring it out in real time,” Rob said when they launched dinner. “The market shelves, the food menu—everything’s been guided by the people upstairs. And now we’re hoping more of the street traffic finds its way in.”