Day-um. Everybody knows that a good breakfast is the true cure to a Sunday-morning hangover. So I hit up this place with some pals in order to satiate my craving for salty-sweet belly-stuffing goodness. And I was really pleasantly surprised. This just may be the finest diner breakfast I've ever had on the West Side. Pancakes at most places are an afterthought: a rubbery, tasteless puck of nothingness that's simply a vehicle for butter and syrup. Not at this place. The stack of pancakes (that come gratis with pretty much every order) was, as I said earlier, the damn finest I've had within five miles of my apartment. The omelette I ordered was pretty hellaciously large as well. So I will definitely be back. If you get there at around 11 on a Sunday, be prepared to wait. You can walk around the strip mall and check out the dozens of fart-themed T-shirts they have at Five Below.