On any given Sunday, as the faithful gather at their churches to sing, praise, and pray, another kind of worshiper lines up on the stairway to Hell. "Why people would wait two hours for brunch boggles my mind," Hell's Kitchen chef/co-owner Mitch Omer says of the lines at his restaurant. "I wouldn't wait two hours to meet the pope." Omer and his fellow chef-owner, Steve Meyer, moved Hell's Kitchen into a vast, subterranean lair that was formerly the home of Rossi's steak house and jazz club and it still can barely contain the crowds. With its pajama-clad brunch staff, and gothic decor, Hell's has more personality than most downtown eateries and it might be the only place in town whose caramel rolls are worth considering selling one's soul to the devil. The lemon ricotta hotcakes are as light as angel wings and the sausage bread is not-to-be-missed. For lunch or dinner, Hell's bison burgers and walleye BLTs are preferable to the more experimental items, but overall, it's a helluva place.