"It's the BIG salad!"

It's all I can do to stop myself from shouting as the mint, zucchini and pearl couscous polpette salad ($18) is placed in front of me.

Piled high with sweetcorn slaw, orange, spinach, pickled beets, pumpkin, toasted hazelnuts and basil and pistachio pesto ($18), it's no exaggeration to say this is the salad I've been looking for.

Ever since watching the 1994 Seinfeld episode The Big Salad and Elaine's pursuit of said salad ("big lettuce, big carrots, tomatoes like volleyballs"), the mythical idea of the BIG salad has been fixed in my mind.

But here it is, on a vintage plate, with a large pink and purple Batman painted on the wall bearing witness to the occasion. I don't even mind that it's vegan (the polpette are a vego version of the meatball made with pearl couscous).

I'm in heaven, otherwise known as Velvet Garage, a cafe tucked down a small side street in St Peters.

Wedged between apartment blocks and a low-scale industrial area, it's in the type of spot that in lesser hands would be run by beardy hipsters who power the whole operation by fixie, while firing and glazing their own artisanal tiles for the toilet.

But no. Velvet Garage very firmly dances to the beat of its own oil drum: a bashed-up orange Datsun takes pride of place inside, mixed with a jumble of Pennzoil and Ampol drums, velvet curtains, mismatched furniture and two old chairs covered in Batman-print fabric (handily matching the wall Batman).

It's – whisper it – very Melbourne, right down to the chatty staff, who are actually interested in the food and not the acting audition they have lined up that afternoon.

I start with Tea Craft English breakfast tea while husband orders a Golden Cobra latte. It's rich and malty, the perfect coffee for those who like to carry on about such things.

The menu follows no particular theme except perhaps a vague Mexican slant, with tamales and a drinks fridge that holds Jarritos​ sodas (plus drinks from that other place south of the border, Hepburn Springs).

Otherwise it veers all over the shop. Eggs come with mushrooms and French Roy des Vallees​ goat's cheese ($13) and there's a smoked trout omelette ($18), plus a berry trifle with yoghurt and honey ($10) and a lamb sandwich with gruyere cheese, and red cabbage and granny smith slaw ($14).

It's a tough choice, but husband goes the scram coco – scrambled eggs – with corn tamales and muhammara (Syrian capsicum dip) with chorizo ($19). I am torn between what turns out to be my BIG salad and the Roxie salad with marinated mushrooms, garlic potatoes, semi-dried tomatoes, almonds, basil mayonnaise, brown rice, parsley, mint and feta ($18).

Both our picks are absolute winners. The eggs and tamales are beautifully spicy, made even better once husband gets wind of the sauce shelf, from which he returns clutching bottles of Tabasco and El Yucateco chipotle hot sauce.

The BIG salad – did I mention the BIG salad? – is crunchy, delicious and filling, not the tummy tickler most salads tend to be.

Miraculously there's room for afters – everyone knows salad only takes up two-thirds of your stomach – so I go for a blueberry and white chocolate muffin with a Granny Smith, strawberry and fresh lime soda. Husband takes on an enormous slice of peanut butter and banana bread, and a dulce de leche and espresso milkshake. Both drinks get extra points for being served in amusing skull-shaped glasses.

My full-o-meter has jumped from two-thirds to four-thirds. We stagger out into the laneway sunlight, ready for a good siesta.

THE PICKS

Mint, zucchini and pearl couscous polpette salad ($18); scram coco ($19); granny smith, strawberry and fresh lime soda

THE COFFEE

Golden Cobra  

THE LOOK

Is there such a thing as garage chic? There is now

THE SERVICE

Chatty and efficient