Surrounded by pots of eggs, bananas and broths, Manoli Antonakakis is a one-man miracle-worker.

“I tell you,” insists my friend Tim. “He gives the most. He’s the host with the most! He’s worth the trip!”

“Uh, to Spring Valley?” I ask.

“Hey! I live in Spring Valley. What’s wrong with Spring Valley?”

“No, didn’t mean it like that, dude. Just that, when I think Spring Valley, I think big trucks, Big Macs, small portions meted out at fast food joints. No offense, palomino, but isn’t that the Land of Franchise out there on Campo Road?”

“What you don’t know is a lot,” says Tim. “I’m talking about my friend Manoli. He’s so far from being a franchise it’s not even funny. That’s it. We’re going.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re here. Spring Valley, where country and town collide, right? On the one hand, you expect to see Julie Andrews running slo-mo through the tall grasses. The hills are alive… Bucolic’s the word. Trees in their spring finery, sheltering a chuckling rill, plus untouched mountains looming up behind. On the other hand, traffic. Traffic! It never stops — not at this time of day, anyway.

“He’s over there,” Tim says. We’re walking towards a low row of three stores: a farm-type veggie outlet, a flower place, and next to that, “Bravo Cafe. Deli Sandwiches, Soups. Salads. Shakes. Coffees. 6:30am. Breakfast.”

Ham’s hidden underneath, but way-generous bacon pile will be a challenge

Right now we’re at about 7:30 in da mawning. So brekky’s definitely on the horizon. And I am suddenly starved. So we’re in like Flynn through the single glass door to a little counter space. First sign you see says, “Please wait in the dining room while your order is in process. We will bring it out to you when it’s ready.”

“It gets crowded,” explains Tim. “Small place. People can’t get to the counter.” He makes introductions. “Uh, Manoli, this is my friend Ed. Manoli Antonakakis. Did I get that right?”

Manoli’s Greek. I say hi and launch into my story about the time I left my passport in a taxi — pre-Uber — in Athens, only to be miraculously chased down and found by the driver, just so he could give it back. “That could have been worth a bundle,” I say. “I was so impressed.”

“Greek taxi drivers are famously honest,” Manoli says. “They are family people, and taxis are well regulated. If they take advantage of a customer, they can lose their license.”

“Manoli is famous too, for his big portions,” says Tim. “He always gives a lot of food for your buck.”

“We started off with just yogurt and coffee,” Manoli says. “Now, we offer a little more.”

Turns out Manoli was involved with the late great East County eatery The Greek Sombrero. “Do you have Greek specialties?” I ask.

“Not really, just the avgolemono soup and yogurt.”

Huh. Avgolemono. Think it means “egg-lemon” soup. They add a couple of eggs to thicken your lemon-infused broth. They say you just need to throw in bits of chicken, and you’ve got yourself a meal.

But Greek? I should be thinking yogurt. On the other hand, Manoli’s waiting and there’s a big overhead menu to check through. He has a ton of sandwiches and salads, from $10-14, half-sandwiches from $8-10, and $15.75 combo specials, like half a sandwich plus soup. (The two soup choices today, apart from avgolemono, are lentil and cream of broccoli. Soup alone goes from $6.50 for small to $10.25 for large.)

But back to brekky: our eyes drift to the center section — specifically, to a single three-fer choice. OK, they have a bagel with cream cheese for $3.50, and yes, an egg and cheese sandwich for $8.50, but the one serious offering is the Breakfast Sandwich. If my bride, the lovely Diane, were to see this, there’d be hell to pay. This don’t fit no nuts and twigs category. But as the Irish have it, “What the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve.” Heh heh. You can get this sandwich with one, two, or three meats: bacon, ham or sausage, for $9.25, $9.50, or $10. And choice of breads too: white, wheat, rye, sourdough, dark wheat.

A lil old house in the hills but a favorite cafe

Natch, I go for the three-meat. At that minuscule price difference, who wouldn’t? Plus, have to have two squares of hashbrowns for $2 extra. Tim has the same. We go, as instructed, back to the dining room and wait. It’s not too long, though, before Rose, Manoli’s pretty wife, comes over with the goods. What we end up with is a polystyrene box each, holding a couple of over-easy eggs, squiggles of ham, the hashbrowns, and a big pile — not just a few strips — of bacon. On the side, two nice dark wheat slices of toast. All in all, not bad for twelve bucks.

Is this health food? “Psychologically, dude, fer sher,” says Tim. “This is something you can get your teeth into. And they say your body needs some of this, right? Hey, do I look unhappy chowing into this sausage?” Ah, what the heck. We both fall into silent hyena mode, chewing, chowing, growling a little. It’s like time-transport back to the ‘90s for ol’ Ed. Apart from the greasiness, there’s the salt, as good as an elephant salt-lick. And just the feel: the guilt-satisfaction ratio is slipping over to sa-tis-fact-ion.

“I’m from Indiana,” mumbles Tim. “Back there, we love good men’s food.”

Uh, I stay right out of that one. But what I love most: Manoli does give you generous amounts, specially of the bacon. Nothing micro-measured about his portions.

I’ll make up for it next time. I’ll come back and gloop yogurt, sip avgolemono soup, and nibble on Greek salad. Hmm. Only thing: that would be perfect, if only Manoli had some nice red Greek wine to go with it.

The Place: Bravo Cafe & Yogurt, 12887 Campo Road, Spring Valley, 619-669-6727

Hours: 6.30am-6.30pm daily (till 5pm Friday and Saturday, closed Sunday)

Prices: Egg and cheese breakfast sandwich, $8.50; breakfast sandwich (with one, two, or three meats, bacon, ham or sausage) $9.25, $9.50, or $10 (add 2 hashbrowns, $2 extra); soup, e.g. lentil or cream of broccoli, from $6.50 for small to $10.25 for large; Bravo sandwich, $14; salami sandwich, $10; Greek veggie sandwich, $8.75; grilled chicken sandwich, $13; Greek salad, $8.75 small, $12 large; tuna salad, $11 (small), $14 (large); regular coffee, $2; cup of milk, $2

Bus: 894

Nearest Bus Stop: Highway 94 and Steele Canyon Road