When The Lexington reopened a little more than a year ago, keeping up with demand for dinner was more than enough to keep the staff busy.

In the intervening months, as things calmed down, the ownership decided to add weekend brunch, a St. Paul tradition that neighbors and fans of the stately restaurant had been missing.

When I talk to longtime patrons and fans of the restaurant, many of them mention their parents taking them as children to The Lex for brunch, so I brought my 14-year-old, who is just starting to appreciate good food.

Though she seemed more interested in the alleged hauntings of the building, which has been in operation as a restaurant for most of the past 80 years, she did perk up at the sight of pull-apart (aka monkey) bread on the menu.

We decided to start brunch with a loaf, and it was a seriously good decision.

Pastry chef Stephanie Strause’s version of the bread ($8) is nothing like the sugar bomb we’re all used to, which is a glorious thing. Just-barely-sweet, fluffy-as-all-get-out bread is stuck together with just enough sugar and cinnamon to make it pull apart easily, and glazed with a caramel that’s more butter than sugar and sprinkled with a generous amount of crunchy macadamia nuts.

Brunch isn’t quite complete without a tipple, so I ordered a bloody du Lex ($13), which is garnished with a round of deeply smoky boar sausage, a giant shrimp, pickles and vegetables. It’s like an appetizer on its own. The spicy, garlicky mix is a bit too thick for my liking, but after I sipped enough of it to add my beer back, it made one of the best micheladas I’ve ever had.

It went great with the chicken and waffles ($18). The waffles are chef/co-owner Jack Riebel’s answer to what to do with leftover Parker House rolls — make them into a bread stuffing and make that stuffing into waffles. They are topped with crisp, house-made chicken tenders and a dollop of light, fluffy chicken liver mousse. (“It’s more cream and butter than liver, so why not?” Riebel said.) There’s a bourbon maple syrup for drizzling, but the dish stands well without it.

My teen was very happy with the Swedish pancakes ($12), which are Riebel’s grandmother’s recipe. Thin, browned, stacked high and topped with apple butter and a fine brunoise of green apple, they are refined and homey at the same time. If you’re looking for giant, fluffy cakes, look elsewhere, but if you’re like me and prefer your pancakes closer to crepe thickness, these might just be your ideal.

The most intriguing dish we ordered, though, was soft scrambled eggs studded with a generous serving of king crab ($19) and topped with a buckwheat crepe that’s been crisped in a frying pan with butter. The nutty, gluten-free crepe adds texture and contrast to the dish, which might feel overly rich without it.

Service might be a little slow as the restaurant figures out how to serve a meal that’s only available twice a week, but the staff will keep your cup full of delicious coffee while you wait. And there’s nothing wrong with a leisurely start to the weekend morning, especially if it comes with some tasty, refined food.

Small Bites are first glances — not intended as definitive reviews — of new or changed restaurants.