Local chef Raman Vohra noticed there was no actual force field around Moorabbin preventing it from hosting which made it impossible to have a hip cafe. in the area. So, seven months ago, he opened The Tradesman to service the area's many young families, tradies, dog owners and lovers of good coffee.

The cafe is in an industrial area on a busy road but it feels calm and welcoming. That's a credit to the cool, clean, timber-and-concrete design, potted greenery and a dog-friendly entrance terrace. I spotted a hi-vis vest and bum crack on my early morning visit so the cafe is aptly named. It's also a pram hub; there are toys, high chairs and a TV that knows how to find ABC3.

The menu is appealing and varied, checking off all the contemporary necessaries. There are extravagant desserts-for-breakfast, superfood catalogues rendered in tall glasses and colourful bowls. The lunch menu rattles through wagyu burger, fish tacos, slow-cooked lamb and pork bao: it's like a food truck fair in one van-free room.

But back to brunch: my favourite dish is the slow-cooked rice pudding, sunny with saffron, scented with cinnamon and cardamom, strewn with pistachios, almonds and chia seeds. Red-wine poached persimmon pieces lurk in the black-and-white rice, a succulent, exotic touch. Like many of the dishes, there's the hint of an influence from Vohra's Indian background.

Every second person seems to be seduced by the red velvet pancakes, a spectacular stack of maroon crimson fluff, topped with ice cream and brownie crumbs. Mascarpone and berries add bang for buck but I'd rather a syrup or coulis than the double dairy whack. Baked eggs are a straightforward pleasure, soft-yolked, with house-made napoli and a spicy mint and coriander sauce. Like many dishes a preponderance of micro-herby sprinkles coats the surface. I could deal with less of that. Pea and haloumi✓​ fritters are gorgeously green, the emerald ramped up by a dollop of avocado puree, and highlighted by corn and capsicum.

The coffee is good but lattes also come with turmeric or matcha, natch. There's something self-conscious about the inner city smarts but it's all rendered with goodwill and optimism. If you wanted a time capsule that said 2016 you could box up The Tradesman in amber and call it a job well done. But don't do that – there are too many people enjoying the place and grateful that it's there.

Three stars out of five