Pastry chef Andy Bowdy has never been one to do things by halves. His cakes are legendary. His soft-serve creations and sundaes were, when he worked at Americana bistro Hartsyard, a major part of the draw.

Who could forget the mardi gras special when he wrapped a soft-serve ice-cream cone in fairy bread and sugar lips, then finished it all off in a fairy floss wig?

And now he has his very own cafe on Enmore Road, dangerously close to Jacoby's Tiki Bar.

Now, I don't want to alarm anyone, but there's a certain sandwich on the menu that may well end you in five swift bites.

Take two slices of soft white bread, slather them in house-made barbecue sauce, then layer with crisp bacon, a fried egg, a hash brown and pimento cheese.

Add a banana cake, peanut butter and salted caramel thickshake on the side, then step into an early grave. What a comfortable place to be.

Of course, because I am a measured person (spartan, some might say), I also order a (now officially unseasonal) winter salad. Here, raw and roasted brussels sprouts are tangled up with apple and grapes, lightly pickled shavings of fennel and toasted almonds.

It's lightly acidic, full of crunch and a nice bit of reprieve from Bowdy's Frankensandwich.

Or find a happy medium with the beetroot bread – dense, semi-sweet, a little dusty and dressed up with slashes of beetroot puree, a ricotta-ish buttermilk curd and sprigs of dill. You'd almost describe it as borscht bread except for the blueberries and the candied hazelnuts.

The result is reminiscent of something your mum might have made while going through an experimental Moosewood Cookbook phase.

You might, however, choose to ignore all this and mainline one of Andy's miniature layer cakes instead. Fair warning, though, even the miniatures are a lesson in excess.

The Karl sees chocolate fudge cake layered with a mess of salted caramel, bits of Snickers, crumbs, mousse and fudge sauce. It's a commitment.

There's also a nice little drinks list if you mean to complete the brunch trifecta with a Campari and orange juice or maybe a tinnie of beer. Personally, I'm quite keen to go back for an amaro, coffee and soda and make a dent in the sandwich menu.

If the combination of eggplant schnitzel, parmesan custard, passata and basil all melted together with mozzarella doesn't sound like the key to a happy and successful life, I'm not sure what does.