Spectrum: Weekend breakfast review of Dear Delicious Cafe

Not many cafes have their own crest. A door mat bearing the Dear Delicious insignia welcomes customers to this busy inner west corner spot, previously occupied by PS cafe. Located next to Dulwich Hill train and light rail stations, the charcoal-grey exterior is brightened by canary yellow-painted window frames under broad awnings.

Inside, the spacious, two-level room has polished concrete floors, white painted brick walls, comfy slat chairs, Edison-era coil light bulbs, copper bread baskets, a slate-topped counter and wooden crate stacks holding tins of tea and potted plants. It feels smart and up-to-date but, despite the odd cushion, leans towards the cold and loud in vibe. Perhaps objects will be added to the bare rear shelves to soak up reflected noise. Perhaps padded banquette seating could add a dash of cosy.

We park ourselves at a large round table at the back. It's almost like having our own room, with French doors off to one side, a powerhouse heater, the bathrooms behind us and raised flooring. The table is dominated by a massive pot palm which is striking but makes conversation difficult with anyone opposite.

We are soon lost in creamy Little Marionette flat whites and a piccolo which emerge speedily from the mighty La Marzocco machine. Service at Dear Delicious is top-notch - attentive, friendly and full of information when orders are delayed. Which is helpful as one dish arrives very late.

The more punctual arrivals include our table's favourite, the layered rhubarb and orange blossom pistachio labneh parfait, an ice-cream sundae-like creation in a tall glass. A richly textured marvel, its blood-red seams of subtly sweet rhubarb and sharp, creamy yoghurt cheese are studded with house-made granola and coconut crunch. The result inspires jealousy toward its owner.

A close second is the green hugger omelette, a fabulous folding of perfectly wobbly egg, melty provolone, avocado, baby spinach and salsa verde. Every mouthful is silky-soft eggy wonder.

The tardy dish is millet, linseed and buckwheat porridge which arrives after everyone has reached the end of their meals. This is a pity as it is the best porridge I have ever encountered in a cafe. Pre-soaked and slow-cooked, so the menu tells us, it is sweet and aromatic with citrus-soaked prunes and a soft crunch added by soaked nuts and sunflower seeds.

The toast is Brickfields sourdough (which you can also buy to take home), served with almond butter, jam and tahini or honey and ricotta. And the Croque Monsieur stars fat slabs of free-range ham with oozy horseradish-infused clotted cream and a fried egg.