I love pancakes. I don’t eat them very often but when I do they are such a treat. I have wonderful memories associated with many pancake eating experiences while on vacation even though I can get some really good ones at our two local breakfast joints—The Red Line Diner and The Foundry Café.
One of my recent pancake favorites was while visiting Maui, Hawaii. We heard about a great pancake and other breakfast goodies spot, The Gazebo. It turned out to be just down the street from where we were staying. So we walked over early one morning and got on the cue that started about an hour before it opened. Fortunately they had a handy-dandy area with free coffee self-service so we could sip while we waited in line. And there was a whale-watching bell that would ring if someone sighted a whale so we were plenty happy just hanging out chatting with others in line.
We were even happier when we got seated because the wait was worth it. Andy had the kitchen sink—an omelet with everything that was yummy. I had wonderful pancakes that were topped with tons of whipped topping. I surmised that it was too hot for them to use real whip cream because the restaurant is really just a large outdoor gazebo. However their whipped topping was surprisingly really good and not Cool Whip from what my taste buds could determine. They served the cakes with—appropriate for Hawaii—coconut cream syrup. We liked it so much that we even bought a bottle back with us.
That is only one of the many great pancake memories I have—all magical moments. What are you favorite pancake spots?
By Elizabeth Alexander
My mother loves butter more than I do,
more than anyone. She pulls chunks off
the stick and eats it plain, explaining
cream spun around into butter! Growing up
we ate turkey cutlets sauteed in lemon
and butter, butter and cheese on green noodles,
butter melting in small pools in the hearts
of Yorkshire puddings, butter better
than gravy staining white rice yellow,
butter glazing corn in slipping squares,
butter the lava in white volcanoes
of hominy grits, butter softening
in a white bowl to be creamed with white
sugar, butter disappearing into
whipped sweet potatoes, with pineapple,
butter melted and curdy to pour
over pancakes, butter licked off the plate
with warm Alaga syrup. When I picture
the good old days I am grinning greasy
with my brother, having watched the tiger
chase his tail and turn to butter. We are
Mumbo and Jumbo’s children despite
historical revision, despite
our parent’s efforts, glowing from the inside
out, one hundred megawatts of butter.