The area around the intersection of Queen and Logan has seen a whirlwind of activity over the past five years or so, adding upscale shop after upscale shop to the once-slightly-sketchy neighbourhood. It’s almost as though there’s a gentrification fairy hovering over it with clipboard in hand, ensuring that the list of “Things Upwardly Mobile People Like” gets properly executed. Funky-cool yet appropriately snobbish coffee house? Check (Mercury Espresso Bar). Fromage aficionado hang-out? Check (Leslieville Cheese Market). Artisan bakery? Check (Brick Street Bread). Steeply priced organic and locally sourced meat and veggie mart? check (Rowe Farms). Starbucks? Check (Ummm… Starbucks). With the arrival of Lady Marmalade, sister store to the wildly popular original location out in Victoria, BC, the ’hood can check off one more box on the list: wicked-good all-day brunch spot.

Sure, there have been other places nearby where getting some eggs all the livelong day was possible. But they’re nothing like this. Jim’s may serve a mean western sandwich, but it’s still Jim’s. Bonjour Brioche is (literally) on the other side of the tracks and the recently moved Pulp Kitchen (which Lady Marmalade replaced a couple of months ago) was all-vegan, all the time. (Scrambled no-eggs anyone? Thought not.)

Lady Marmalade is a different animal altogether: quaint and classy, yet with a relaxed, hippy co-op vibe. Tea and coffee come served in a hodgepodge variety of china cups, as though grandmother’s cottage cupboards were raided to get them. A selection of old board games and, up front, blackboard wainscoting with chalk for the kids to occupy themselves invite parents to linger awhile. (This should buy protection from the SUV-stroller-mom mafia that so viciously condemned the former occupant.) The menu is a creative fusion of Mexican and old-school diner fare, with items ranging from the weird (hash browns with cheese and hollandaise, orange cream or miso gravy for $6.95) to the sublime (airy cheddar and spinach waffles, $10.95, with decent bacon, tasty roasted tomato wedges and an oddly pleasing tomato-orange-cream sauce.

Rustic-style sandwiches, served on toasted St. John’s organic bread, are excellent; in particular the “madre tierra” club ($9.95) — a sumptuous mélange of roasted veggies seamlessly merged with beets, cream cheese and some gorgeously oily pesto. Given how good it is, the fact that a side salad of mixed greens with shredded cabbage and black sesame-studded ginger-soy dressing also manages to stand out is impressive. The mess of white-streaked scrambled eggs, cheese and chorizo that comes with the huevos migas ($10.95) looks like something made in a cast-iron pan over the campfire at a Scout Jamboree. The picture it presents to the taste buds is another story though: it’s salty, with a touch of smoky goodness and a soothingly creamy texture. Matched with well-seasoned black beans and brown rice you actually enjoy eating, it’s a terrifically pleasant surprise.

The miniscule portion of juice ($2.95) we’re served, however, is not such a fun surprise. There’s no pretence of fresh squeezed here, with the name Tropicana proudly listed on the menu. As such, we somehow expected more than the mouthful or two provided for the price. The brie, avocado and bacon eggs benny ($12.95) is also a bit of a downer, arriving as it does sans avocado. With a nice, buttery hollandaise, this ingredient combo could have been a dream if they’d bother to remake it for us. Instead, we’re brought slices of the creamy green fruit to tuck under our eggs ourselves, by which point the dish is verging on cold. (At $20 for breakfast, this is just bad form.) There’s nothing frigid about the daily French Toast ($9.95), however, which turns out to be a massive portion of kick-ass raspberry-and-banana bread pudding. Moist, not overly sweet with a lusciously golden-brown sheen, dessert for breakfast doesn’t get much better than this.

There are a few other minor annoyances (waiting until we’re finished eating to refill our bottomless coffees — at $2.25 each — for one), yet there’s something about Lady Marmalade’s atmosphere that makes them seem too trivial to mention. There’s an aura about the dining room, as though you’ve entered an oasis where you can just sit back, ease-up and enjoy yourself. This is exactly the way eating brunch ought to feel. That the food is so tasty is just an extra-special bonus.