One of the T-shirt logos at the Commonwealth Café in North Park shows a crescent moon hovering above a night owl. The design reflects the owners’ original business plan to keep the eatery open until 4 a.m. each day. But until the city grants a “neighborhood use permit,” supported partly by a goodwill petition flaunting almost 2,500 signatures so far, bar crawlers and insomniacs have only until midnight to graze on some of the most straightforward and affordable diner food found outside the state of Virginia.

Virginia?

Commonwealth’s menu genuflects to a small diner in Lynchburg, where co-owner Leighton Hollingsworth says he grew up eating Western-style burgers (not the barbecue-sauced version we know) along with homemade sweet onion relish, hand-cut fries, fresh limeade and other family friendly grub that’s as American as chili dogs and apple pie.

Before flinging open the doors last month, Hollingsworth and biz partner Jason Merchey amassed thousands of pennies and encased them in the surfaces of several high tables and a modest-size lunch counter wrapped in stainless steel. The effect is eye-catching. Also, stools upholstered in emerald-colored vinyl shine brightly under the glow of a green neon sign spelling the eatery’s name over a long interior wall. Retro memorabilia such as metal-plaque soda ads are kept to a minimum, resulting in a nostalgic atmosphere that is unforced and highly welcoming.

Unique to local kitchens is the “Texas football,” a tasty re-spin on New Mexico’s famous Frito pies. Here, airy scoop-shaped Fritos are covered in a peppy chili sauce thickened by ground beef, then topped with green onions and an original cheese sauce sporting the silkiness of sour cream. For only $4.50, the serving was generous and broke the calorie meter much as nachos do.

Sassy and crispy were the Buffalo wings, available in full or half orders. As in all restaurants outside my native Buffalo, N.Y., I always request “well done” to avoid rubbery skins. But Hollingsworth assured us that the drumettes are deep-fried long enough to achieve an authentic outcome. Indeed, they hit their mark by a few extra critical minutes in the fryer. Slathered in classic orangy-red sauce (using Frank’s Hot Sauce and butter, I’m presuming), and served with blue cheese instead of sacrilege Ranch dressing, we emptied the basket with happily heated lips.

The Western burger is a must, if only because it defies the omnipresent version of a meat patty topped with barbecue sauce and onion rings. Drawing upon his Virginian roots, Hollingsworth instead gives us what he calls the real deal – a griddled burger encircled by a fork-scrambled egg that gets tucked into a steamed bun with the usual picnic condiments. The added bonuses are that the beef is purchased from farms where cattle are treated humanely – and the meat is never frozen.

Accompanying the burger was a small dish of homemade sweet onion relish glistening like amber gemstones from the addition of turmeric. It’s the kind of condiment that every burger and hotdog deserves, imparting an assuasive, slightly spiced essence to the meat because it only uses a small amount.

Equally magnificent was the mac-and-cheese, a made-to-order recipe using cheddar, Monterey jack, yellow American and a nip of creamy blue cheese that lent an abstruse tang to the elbow pasta. Though the dish lacked those crusty edges I so love when finished off under a direct heat source, it carried the velvety, down-home goodness that seems lost to so many gourmet attempts occurring in other kitchens.

A friendly, heavily tattooed waitress kept our feast moving along at cherished diner speed, with the additional arrivals of perfectly chilled coleslaw that was juicy and sliced thin like confetti, just the way I like it – plus a basket brimming with hand-cut fries, some of them a half-foot long when we stretched out their curls. Forget the ketchup. These spuds came topped with a semi-creamy blue cheese sauce spiked with chives. They were obscenely delicious.

However not everything on the menu will send you to the fat farm.

There are also veggie burgers and dogs, corn on the cob, baked potatoes and vegan chili, the latter balancing out beans with mushrooms and zucchini. Mini beef burgers (sliders) are available in quantities of one, two or four. And if your inner child starts yelping, you can settle for a good, old-fashioned PBJ and then pocket a few pieces of candy on the way out from a bowl sitting on the lunch counter.

Dessert was unfathomable after drowning ourselves in the café’s most decadent dishes. Thus we missed out on a variety of fruit pies baked offsite by a friend of the owners. Our sweet treat of the evening was homemade limeade that quickly addicts the palate with a mix of fresh limes, simple syrup and Club Soda.

Hollingsworth said that it could take months before the city allows the restaurant to operate into the wee hours of the night, even though he has no plans to serve alcohol. But until then, the diner that calls itself a café beckons to a diverse patronage on the hunt for classic American chow with a memorably endearing twist.