When Beth Barden moved to Kansas City in the late 1990s, she never imagined that pancakes the size of dinner plates would become her calling card.

Originally from the Detroit area, Barden arrived in the Show Me State as a community educator and grassroots organizer with Planned Parenthood. But when Missouri moved to abstinence-based education in public schools in 1999, an unemployed Barden picked up a few shifts at her favorite coffee shop — and a new dream slowly formed.

“That first week turned into, like, six days a week for two years, which turned into me doing side catering and just kind of parlaying it into a very small breakfast and lunch restaurant,” Barden said. “And I figured if I started small, and I tried to just make the place welcoming … kept the prices fair, had a fair plate of food, the best ingredients I could use … then, you know, it would be fine.”

More than 25 years later, business is booming at Succotash, Barden’s brainchild brunch spot in the Longfellow neighborhood of Kansas City. Under the watchful smile of an anthropomorphic lima bean hanging on the restaurant’s sign, the close-knit crew at Succotash turns out hearty omelets, bright juices and eye-catching griddle creations.

When I moved to Kansas City in the spring of 2024, I knew I wouldn’t quite feel at home until I found a brunch spot to anchor my weekends. I can be picky, and I’m always searching for somewhere to eat with a good balance of invention and cohesion, where the sweet and savory options are equally appealing and the ambiance is as invigorating as the coffee.

But once I got my fork into Succotash’s Southwest Sink ($14) — a hearty Tex-Mex skillet bursting with chunky potatoes and fresh pico de gallo — I knew I was embarking on a serious relationship.

Succotash first opened in a small space in the City Market in 2001, where Barden worked to turn two tabletop griddles and a $25 plug-in stove into a thriving eatery. She collected buckets of silverware from a friend who worked weddings, gathered extra mugs and dishes from customers, and dumpster-dove for wallpaper.

“I started the whole restaurant for the price of a used car,” Barden said. “I had about four bucks in the till the day I opened. … I was young enough, you know, in my early 30s, that I could probably figure it out if I lost everything.”

Getting Succotash off the ground in the pre-social media era was a matter of guerrilla marketing, bartering and word of mouth, Barden said. Barden would drive to Kansas City hotels and drop off cookies to the concierges, pour cups of free coffee for passing taxi drivers. At her City Market stall, she would open early to serve loaded plates of biscuits and gravy to her fellow vendors, often coming back at the end of the day to find crates of leftover produce stacked quietly by her counter.

By 2009, Succotash had moved to its cozy corner spot on Holmes Street, where Barden set about collecting colorful conversation pieces from friends and wholesalers.

Today, a pink chandelier from the original venue shares wall space with such treasures as a vintage Cadillac hubcap, a tableau of metal doves built in Barden’s garage by friends, several Hollywood Regency chandeliers rescued from an Independence secondhand warehouse, and a delightfully ominous painting of a woman messily eating tomato soup.

“It’s one step up from raccoon chic,” Barden said. “It’s whatever I can find.”

But that’s one of the things I like best about Succotash: It’s a feast for both the eyes and the mouth, and there’s something for everyone. I’ve collected rave reviews from visitors ranging from my college friends — one who’s particular about her fresh produce, one who’s a noted condiment fiend — to my grandfather who’s always on a quest for good blueberry pancakes.

The aforementioned pancakes ($13), which I prefer with chocolate chips (an extra $1), make a great split treat for the table, with a diameter so large it inspires double takes and a moist, cakelike texture.

When designing the menu for Succotash, Barden strove for this sort of variety, keeping both of her parents in mind. Barden’s mother loves to construct elaborate meals with a few little bites of everything, she said, while her late father often struggled to find healthy options as a business traveler seeking to manage his weight.

The result is a series of entrees that satisfy without sending you into a food coma. I’ve followed Succotash with activities ranging from a day at the Nelson-Atkins Art Museum to an afternoon Royals game without even thinking about a nap.

Vegetarian and vegan options abound, and you can put basically anything on the menu in an omelet, scramble or burrito, which is great when I’m feeling playful but also great when I’m feeling nostalgic. Some past favorites have included carmelized onions, roasted red peppers and goat cheese; pesto, cheddar and chicken sausage; and spinach and mushroom.

Aside from the carefully designed platters and scrambles, some of Succotash’s signature freshness shines through in standalone high-quality ingredients like the triple-thick-cut bacon from Webb City Iowa that accompanies most griddle items, or the nectar-sweet oranges that Succotash juices on site ($6 a glass). I’ve come to crave their crisp, tangy green juice (“Mr. Green Jeans,” $7) as much as I crave their smoky, herbaceous Rosemary Caramel Latte ($6).

Barden worked in the kitchen for the first 15 years or so of Succotash’s existence and wrote the extensive menu, continuing to dream up a steady rotation of seasonal treats.

One summer special I loved was the Strawberries & Cream French Toast Platter ($16) — a tribute to Travis Kelce, Barden said, who often came in for a double order of French toast before he rose to the level of celebrity that precludes public dining.

(And yet, as I savored the airy whipped cream, sunny sweet strawberry reduction and pillowy, eggy bread with fresh berries on top, I couldn’t help but feel that Kelce’s loss was my gain.)

Like most Kansas City brunch spots, Succotash is busiest on the weekends. It’s not uncommon for the line at the counter-service-only spot to spill out the door, forming a line into the street that intimidates tourists but moves fast.

“Our week is very neighborhoody and kind of like urban lunchy,” Barden said. “It’s not the same animal as the weekends at all.”

Some seasonal items are so popular with regulars that they’ve crept their way back onto the year-round menu. During our conversation, Barden teased the return of the Crab Benedict ($16), a rich umami stack of bright silky hollandaise, perfectly poached eggs and sweet, fleshy crab on pleasantly soft bread.

However, these days day-to-day operations at the restaurant are in the hands of about 15 extremely friendly employees. Some server and barista creations have also been written into existence of late, including the Blueberry Cream Matcha ($7.75), a whimsical sky-colored treat with notes of marshmallow cereal and a mellow, earthy finish.

Meanwhile, Barden is expanding the Succotash culinary universe by catering for film and commercial sets and cooking for celebrity dinner parties, including a recent birthday party for Kansas City native Heidi Gardner. She provided catering on set when Queer Eye filmed part of its third season in Kansas City and forged a close friendship with food and wine expert Antoni Porowski, with a recipe of hers appearing in one of his cookbooks.

As for me, I’m already plotting what I’ll put in my next omelet and who else I should invite to go halfsies on a chocolate chip pancake.

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