In a city dominated by dusty ham-and-egg dives of dubious quality and kitschy faux-retro corporate chains, 40th Street Cafe stands tall as a bastion of quality, no-frills short-order diner fare. This boxy little joint may lack the patina and romance of the Tom Waits aesthetic, but the servers can sass, the kitchen can cook and there's even a tiny counter crammed into the back of its diminutive strip mall footprint. The food isn't artful, just pretty damn good — exactly what you expect, right down the middle of the plate. A Taylor Ham breakfast sandwich with an egg your way comes on bread griddled so perfectly it shatters. Pancakes are thick and fluffy with a gentle, sweet scent. The tuna melt doesn't fuss, filled with tuna salad that's little more than fish and mayonnaise. And local touches shine, like a "taco omelet" that arrives smothered in tender, flavorful chunks of stewed beef.