Chilaquiles verde at Brother's Restaurant Credit: Mike Sula

We ask a lot of the diner, and all too often the diner disappoints. How can we expect the all-purpose concept—promising omnicompetence with regard to everything from French toast to Denver omelets to turkey wraps to chili—to execute any of it, beyond basics like eggs and toast, really well? I don’t know how Avondale’s Brother’s Restaurant does with any of that stuff, but I’ve heard good things about the turkey Reuben, the turkey-bacon club made with real turkey breast, and the ham-bacon-sausage Brother’s Skillet with crispy hash browns.

Brother’s RestaurantCredit: Mike Sula

But one thing I know this unassuming little greasy spoon does exceptionally well is chilaquiles, a heaping plate of fuel constructed with a craftsmanship rarely applied to humble steak and eggs. Take the tortilla chips alone: a carefully erected ziggurat, each level layered with a respectably spicy blanket of salsa verde and elastic melted cheese, all drizzled with crema. Packed with medium-rare skirt steak niblets (for an upcharge), fluffy scrambled eggs, a veritable field of fluffy sopa de arroz, and a steaming cup of refried frijoles, this plate demands addressing long after all digestive real estate is occupied. For $9.99 it’ll ease your pain, and rock you back to sleep.

Brother’s Restaurant, 3000 W. Belmont, 773-463-3310,