A cozy local—exposed brick, soft pastels and sunbeams—for hipsters stocking up on large portions of comfort food the morning after the night before. Thick, coriander-infused pea soup delights, but there’s no sight of the promised fresh bread. Of five salads, the caesar arrives crisp, generously dressed and dusted with powdered parmesan. Thirty-two sandwiches come on calabrese, rye, multi-grain, white, or homemade pita. The roasted chicken with avocado, sun-dried tomato and alfalfa is just-picked-from-the-bone succulent, the whole wheat pita warm and soft. Eggs Norwegian disappoints with untoasted, waterlogged English muffin, accidentally cooked smoked salmon and disconcertingly coriander-flavoured hollandaise. Home fries are crispy and mildly spiced with garlic and paprika. A mixed-berry smoothie (it was sold out on one visit), and cookies and pies (when available) stand in for dessert. Kitchen and service are slow and confused, but friendly. Unlicensed.