Red-velvet pancakes among many intriguing menu items at Babycakes Cafe

"You know you have to get the red-velvet pancakes," came the voice across the table at Babycakes Cafe, sounding like nothing so much as my conscience. "That's their specialty."

Sigh.

If my job has one shortcoming, it's that I can't, in good conscience, order what I want to order. Instead, it's important to order something that reflects the mission of the restaurant, or is the specialty of the house, or whatever. As long as it's on the menu, anything should measure up, but the specialties can't be overlooked.

Problem: I'm not big on sweet, and really not big on really sweet. And how could red-velvet pancakes with whipped cream, bits of chocolate and cream-cheese syrup be anything but really sweet?

But my friend was right, and I knew it. So I was glad when she pointed out that for an additional charge, I could make a pancake side substitution instead of digging into a whole stack.

She, of course, had free run of the menu and was torn between all sorts of things -- the adobo fried rice, maybe, or the breakfast burrito. Finally, she settled on the four-egg Mexican omelet ($9.95), which was particularly intriguing because it contained carnitas, which are not a common omelet ingredient.

I was eyeing the corned-beef hash and eggs, but when asked, our server admitted (and bless his heart) that the hash wasn't homemade. So instead it would be Portuguese sausage (also known as linguica) and eggs ($8.25), with -- even though the lemon-ricotta pancakes were calling my name -- red-velvet pancakes on the side ($1.50 extra).

First, the omelet. My friend made a classic mistake by shaking on the Sriracha without tasting the omelet and found to her surprise that it was much kickier than she expected. While the carnitas weren't especially plentiful, they were especially tasty, and very appealingly worked into the eggs, as opposed to being used to fill the omelet. Pico de gallo and jalapenos provided the kick, and some jack cheese and a big scoop of sour cream some balancing mellow notes. Given the choice between pancakes and toast on the side, she chose the latter, which were classic buttermilk, reasonably light. And given the choice between seasoned potatoes or hash browns, she chose the former, which were deep-fried cubes, very lightly seasoned.

The Portuguese sausage and eggs were a perfect diner classic, provided the diner was in Hawaii, maybe, or northern California or even Portugal. The eggs were perfectly over-light as ordered, the sausage sliced and browned until it was crispy on the edges, the hash browns pretty standard hash browns.

And the red-velvet pancakes? I wouldn't want a whole stack of them, but in moderation they were actually pretty good. They had the characteristic red color and mild chocolate flavor (though not the vinegar tang) of a traditional red-velvet cake, and by scraping off the whipped cream and most of the chocolate bits I cut a lot of the sweetness. As for the cream-cheese syrup? Pretty good. As I had suspected (and hoped), the cream-cheese aspect was more virtual than literal, and it worked well with the pancakes (especially because it was served on the side). So points for creativity, but next time I'll probably still try the lemon-ricotta.

Service throughout was great, the coffee ($2.50) fresh, iced tea ($2.25) and water refilled promptly and our server even offering hanging purse hooks so we could get our handbags off the floor. The place is tiny but neat as a pin, simply decorated in neutrals with bright yellow accents.

Oh, and there's one other thing: A look at the Babycakes Cafe menu might give you a hint that there's a Hawaiian connection here; in addition to the Portuguese sausage there's a kalua pig Benedict and Loco Moco. So in answer to your anticipated questions, yes, the requisite Spam and eggs and Spam scramble and Spam on the side are there.

But even I don't go that far.

Las Vegas Review-Journal restaurant reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@ reviewjournal.com.