Green Eggs Cafe

Sleepy-eyed Philly, its weekend belly growling after a night on the town, used to know exactly where to answer the call for brunch - the neon-lit beacons of diner goodness like the Melrose, Mayfair, and Country Club.

With that diner culture sliding into an alarmingly steep decline over the last decade, however, an entirely new genre has stepped into the a.m. hunger void. The funky bruncherie - part hipster cafe, part laboratory to explore the creative limits of stuffed French toast - has become to the old-school diner what gastropubs have been to aging corner taverns. These are not simply updates to an aging template (although they are also that), but touchstones of urban renewal, where the new and old residents of gentrifying 'hoods can bond over skillets full of fresh biscuits and sausage gravy and chorizo-stuffed breakfast burritos as big as a piñata.

The latest hotcake to enter the brunch frenzy, Green Eggs Cafe, has only stoked more enthusiasm for the genre, with Sabrina's-like lines in its first few months to prove it. But does it take the category to a new level of Dr. Seussical wonder? Not quite yet, Sam-I-am. But there is plenty here to like.

Set in a handsomely rehabbed corner space at Dickinson and Clarion Streets, the look is a smart blend of old and new. The tired gray Permastone facade has been ripped away to let the sun shine through its cheery dining rooms onto wide butcher-block tables (and walls painted with colors appropriately named "Cream in my Coffee" and "Cafe au lait"). Original pressed tin on the walls and ceiling, meanwhile, preserves a touch of that genuine South Philly rowhouse charm.

The crowd is a largely youthful but diverse mix that mirrors the neighborhood's upscaling flux - with plenty of carefully tended slacker stubble and designer sweats - and faces that are often familiar to co-owner Stephen Slaughter, a veteran Old City barman who once ran the nightclubs Moda and Otium.

That luxe-lounge instinct is no doubt responsible for the cushy black leather couches and flat-screen TVs in the waiting area, where Giada and Bobby Flay and the La Colombe-fueled coffee bar keep the crowds good-humored for those 40-minute waits. It's a slick-yet-comfortable touch that lends Green Eggs a shade more polish than some of the more cramped competition.