Atmosphere: Gastropub-tastic. Exposed brick walls, hung-over locals in their frayed PSU caps, sunlight slanting through the windows and catching dust motes in their beams. Yello'bar is just about as authentic and low-key as it gets.

Crowd: The Sunday brunch crowd was exactly what I'd hoped, and expected, it would be. A pitch-perfect mix of baggy-eyed guys recapping the previous night's antics, a couple in their 50's looking for a decent meal and a place to flirt (even after all these years), a girl at the bar hoping a little hair of the dog would help get her back on track and an assortment of other neighborhood-types who looked as if they'd just rolled out of bed. And in a turn of events just about as miraculous as the Phillies clawing their way over the .500 line, none of the other women there gave Ms. Martini the what-kind-of-bag-shoes-top-jeans-jewelry once-over she's grown so used to at certain other bars in certain other neighborhoods. Hallelujah!

Service: Pretty much the same as the crowd, but, you know, carrying trays and stuff. Our waitress was friendly and chatty but not obtrusive. She even told us that, if we wanted her to stop talking, just to let her know. Philly service at its finest.

What to Get: The Yello'burger, a wonderfully lopsided patty of glistening fatty goodness. It was nothing fancy, mind you, just a simple, straightforward sandwich done right. Even the Monterey Jack cheese melted on top, about as philosophically far from some of the fancier, Brie-blanketed burgers in town, was perfect--gooey, shamelessly un-fussy and a perfectly American topping for this perfectly American preparation. The crab quesadilla was nice, too, if you're into cheese with seafood.

What Not to Get: The crab quesadilla, if you're not into cheese with seafood. There's not much in-between here.

Verdict: Leave your ego, pretensions and attitude at the door. Yello'bar is exactly what this city has needed for so long: a neighborhood gastropub whose food is worth the drive to a neighborhood still in search of an identity. They're calling it G-Ho these days, and next week it may well be known as Gray Fray or some other such ridiculous thing. It doesn't matter: A spot like Yello'bar would be a solid addition to any 'hood, no matter what they called it.

2425 Grays Ferry Ave., 215.735.3533