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THE WOMAN BEHIND the pastry counter is trying very hard not to show she is frazzled. But the tenuous tone in her voice belies her smiling countenance — exceedingly polite, but with a measure of impatience to it.

She is taking my order at Duck's Cosmic Kitchen, a cafe/bakery hybrid in the newly minted space of East Decatur Station. The shop has an urban quaintness but takes up an area about the size of a large bathroom. It was a run-down pump house before the owners — all women and headed up by caterer Ann Duckworth — rebuilt it.

Elissa Eubanks/Staff (ENLARGE)
It's not a pizza; it's a panzanella, crusty/chewy bread topped with mozzarella, roasted chicken, arugula and tomatoes.
Elissa Eubanks/Staff (ENLARGE)
The baked goods and quaintness of the space help give Duck's Cosmic Kitchen its charm. Bagels and cookies are baked in-house, and the dining area is a smallish space decked out in funky, bright colors.
Elissa Eubanks/Staff (ENLARGE)
Elissa Eubanks/Staff (ENLARGE)
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Consequently, the small space is stuffed to the gills with a deck oven, pastry bench, shelves, refrigeration, dry storage areas and the tiny pastry case, which brims with pastel-colored cupcakes and cookies stacked high on cake stands.

It's also crowded with busy women with a purpose, but no place to spend it. My ordering one of the cafe's hardy veggie burgers with a zesty red pepper coulis seems to have come at the wrong time: A delivery from a purveyor has the front door semi-blocked and one staff member scurrying to check it in and move it out of the way; the cook is red-faced from oven heat and using everything within arm's reach (pens, measuring cups, a coffee cup) to keep order tickets from blowing off the baker's bench under the din of an exhaust fan.

The scene would be off-putting if it weren't for the persistence of these women trying like heck to get everything right. Their effort to please is evident, and it's hard to fault those who try this hard.

Where they succeed the most is in the magnificent level of bread baking — loaves of country wheat, calamata olive and a deliciously dense walnut barely stay on the shelves long enough to grab a loaf by midday. The bagels are the real deal: densely textured and chewy with a soft, alkaline pretzel skin to them. The bottoms are dipped in cornmeal, then baked on the pizza stone; they often pick up a heady garam masala-like spice rub left over from one of the pizzas.

But I came for lunch, alone, and once the mayhem of my order was over I was invited to sit outside at one of the few patio tables or wait in the "satellite room" across the courtyard, where the owners have rented space from the All Souls Church for more seating.

The room is a little like the groovy '70s basement pad you had growing up — cinder block walls spray painted bright yellow, big oil paintings on the walls, sectional furniture.

After mowing down the veggie burger, I ordered a lavender-colored coconut cupcake for my daughter (to go) and sipped coffee while eating one of Duck's mesmerizing lemon bars, a mix of tart goo and flaky pastry crust.

Subsequent trips had me indulging in pretty little shrimp cakes, chocked with full-on shrimp flavor and lots of spice, and one of the personal pizzas, the panzanella.

It's aptly named after the bread salad from the regions of central Italy, described lovingly by Italians as "bread with something added to it." At Duck's, the chewy, lean dough used for crust is baked with mozzarella until the edges crisp, but the center remains doughy. It's topped with fresh, clean wisps of feathery arugula and chunks of ripe tomato, dressed lightly with oil, vinegar, salt and pepper and shards of Parmesan cheese (chicken is an option). It is the perfect lunch for those of us who have never given up on the obvious mood-enhancing benefits of a massive dose of midday carbohydrates.

It would be a shame to go to Duck's and not get a cookie: the thumbprints with raspberry centers are tasty, but the Ducky's house special that mixes oatmeal, raisins, nuts and chocolate have the kind of gooey center and crisp edge that goes down well with a cup of hot joe or cold milk. And what a shame it would be to not try a slice of the dense, tangy chocolate cheesecake.

So what if things at Duck's are a little quackers. The crazy turtle brownies, covered with nuts, chocolate chips, white chocolate and drizzles of caramel are worth it.