George Jones Eatery

At George Jones Eatery in Pascoe Vale they make their chips from scratch. We know this because they announced it on Facebook earlier this month. The post read, "instead of using a high-quality packet chip, we make our own from scratch. We hope you can taste the difference ..."

Owner Paul Vernuccio says this post was a mistake. What really happened was the kitchen switched from serving bought-in crinkle-cut chips to bought-in beer-battered chips. Social media #fail. But who cares, right? This cafe’s hashtag should read #overnightneighbourhoodsuccess.

The 140-seater, which opened in early February, occupies the ground floor of a new apartment building in a neighbourhood that was, until recently, all neat brick veneer homes with two cars in the driveway but nothing like a flash cafe-diner within cooee.

"I live out that way, and no one has ever invested any money out here," says owner Paul Vernuccio. He says he has spent serious dough on the fitout – plenty of room around the tables for prams and wandering kids, a big communal bench for local business meetings, very comfortable booth seats, and 50 kerbside possies, too. "We didn't want it to be an inner-city sardine-can cafe," he says. There's pale timber, bright yellow tiles, and exposed copper pipes connected to a small batch coffee roaster on the counter.

Vernuccio owns Cheeky Monkey in Richmond, and he has brought some inner-city cafe knowhow to this northern suburb.

He and executive chef Jason Shiong have brought one dish north from Richmond, too – that old cafe fave, corn fritters, seasoned with dill and served with a poached egg, avocado and dill cream. "That's the only dish that's come across," he says. "Otherwise there's no challenge." It's one of the breakfast menu's most popular.

Breakfast offers other familiar crowd pleasers. Green eggs and "ham" are poached, perched on a golden potato hash thing, surrounded by cubes of pork belly, wilted kale and a scatter of bright green kale dust.

A buttermilk hotcake stack is two fat, fluffy hotcakes, nicely golden, topped with what looks like an enormous scoop of whipped cream (it's actually a white chocolate foam of fairly subtle flavour). A fruit salad of strawberry and kiwifruit chunks is doused in very sweet raspberry compote.

Beetroot and feta smash appears as truckloads of the tangy smash under a salad of beetroot leaves and witlof cut into pale, crunchy matchsticks, surrounded by batons of fried polenta that could have had a moment more frying, and big splodges of hollandaise. The proportions were not quite right – too much smash, not enough polenta.

The big hit on the lunch menu is a Thai-style sticky pork and papaya salad that rolls over into dinner, along with another lunch dish of seared yellowfin tuna with green beans, tomatoes, potato and a romesco sauce.

Also bridging the lunch-dinner divide are burgers – a cheeseburger with caramelised onions and Mr Jones sauce (mayo, ketchup, cayenne pepper); soft-shell crab; fried chicken; and a mushroom melt – all now served with those beer-battered babies.

The "dinner" bit of the dinner menu is a riff on suburban restaurant dining, from snacks of pan-fried saganaki and marinated Mount Zero olives to penne with braised lamb ragu or roasted snapper.

There's single origin coffee roasted in-house, beer, a list of wines that ticks the varietal boxes from Marlborough to McLaren Vale, and a shelf of spirits and aperitifs, many of which you last snuck a taste of from your parents' liquor cabinet.

Do ... Come for a burger and a beer in the evening.

Don't ... Forget to bring the kids; there's plenty of space, and a baby changeroom.

Dish … Green eggs and "ham".

Vibe … Yes! A local at last.