You can't really miss us. The light-blue brick storefront on 34th Street, the sign that lists breakfast, lunch, coffee and cocktails like a dare, the patio out front with shade and flower boxes. That's Chubbs.
We're a small Virginia Beach spot that takes breakfast seriously and everything else a little less so. Our menu's got names you'll remember (Mr. Larson, Cluck Norris, Disco Fries, Mt. Trashmore), portions that earn the name "Tummy Treats," and a back-bar that pours mimosas, breakfast shots and Bloody Marys before most places have even turned the lights on.
The crew leans into it. There's a Happy Gilmore streak running through the whole place — golf bits, smart-mouth menu names, an unbothered attitude about brunch rules. It's not a theme. It's just who we are.
Locals roll in for their usual. Beach trippers find us by accident and come back the next morning. Brunch groups take the patio, order pitchers, and lose an hour or two without trying. We're open every day from 8 to 2, and we save the best seats for whoever shows up.
Come hungry. Bring friends. Order something with a weird name.
