Uncles can have a profound influence on a child, especially if they aren't independent enough to own their own place, and one of them dresses like Elvis, and the other does cartoon voices, in which case, how are you not going to get hooked on meth? Fortunately they can also steer you toward opening a restaurant, like Marmalade.
From a dude who grew up working in assorted uncles' restaurants -- including Le Sabre, which formerly inhabited the same space -- Marmalade's a sunny corner breakfastery with orange- & cranberry-colored walls, and an open kitchen manned by the former chef at m. henry, but not Oh Henry!, because that Sue Ellen Mischke is rich enough as it is. Specialties include French toast, made from housebaked brioche and stuffed with strawberry marmalade, raspberry coulis, and creme anglaise; granola-topped hotcakes layered with warm mango, sour cherries, and housemade mascarpone; and the chorizo/ black bean/ sharp cheddar-stuffed Mayan omelet, which is predicted to be gone by 2012. On Sundays they roll out an expanded brunch menu touting Napoleons (layers of puff pastry, avocado, cucumber & tomato topped w/ poached eggs and Hollandaise), fruit-covered cinnamon bread pudding with vanilla creme, and a walnut pesto-slathered Benedict served on herb-roasted tomato flatbread and aided by grilled asparagus and shaved prosciutto, which naively thinks grooming will make it any less of a pig.
Those who like brunch boozy and cheap will be relieved Marm's BYO, while those who don't start drinking at 10a can nab hot chocolate with homemade marshmallows, or hit up the juice bar for glasses of the stuff fresh-squeezed, which if applicable to your uncle would actually excuse your meth problem.