Skip to main content

If You Offer Heather a Pancake, She'll Order a Grilled Cheese Sandwich


It was Wednesday.

I had the day off.

Stella’s brakes were shot and her back tire was flat.

After dropping the bike off at a repair shop, my watch said noon.  My stomach said lunch.

I ended up at the Pancake House.

How do you like the hard-boiled detective (a la Dragnet) narrative I’ve got going?  No?  Very well.

I am a big fan of breakfast.  No, wait...I am a big fan of breakfast at any time of the day.  And naturally, when I walked into The Pancake House at noon on a weekday, I assumed I’d be ordering breakfast.  I’d order the weirdest, more creative breakfast item on the menu.  That’s what I thought would happen, anyway, when I sat down and perused the menu. 

But, then I realized...breakfast at The Pancake House was, well, mundane.  Skillets, omelettes, and the like.  And honestly, I can get all that at Denny’s.

Plan B: Cheeseburger.  So, I’m looking down the list of burgers and sandwiches, and then, I see it: The Ultimate Grilled Cheese.  And I am super-intrigued.  Because there’s a lot of cojones that goes into the decision to put the word ‘ultimate’ in front of any food dish.

Three different kinds of cheese (Swiss, provolone, and Cheddar) melted between Parmesan-crusted rye bread.

Oh, be still, my cholesterol-clogged heart.

So I place my order and check out the environs while I wait.  The decor is retro-farmhouse...red and white gingham wallpaper dotted with cows, chickens, and old-school milk bottles, white wainscoting and chair rail, Formica tabletops, and the padded, metal-frame chairs popular in 50s-era diners.  It’s bright and clean and busy.  Waitstaff bustle about in red polos and khakis, and I can’t help but think staff uniforms could have been more creative for such a charming, cozy dining spot.

Eventually, I get my sandwich.  It looks pretty cool...except for the Ruffles-esque potato chips that come as the side.  Potato chips?!  Ugh.  Dammit.  Give me a unique coleslaw or German potato salad or sweet potato fries instead of potato chips. 

 
In many ways, the Ultimate Grilled Cheese missed the mark.  I loved the globby, melty cheesy inside...but the flavor of the rye completely dominated the cheese.  And while I like rye bread, that’s all I tasted.  A Dijon mustard or chipotle mayo would have gone a long way in balancing that strong flavor.  And I would have ordered extra to dip my plain-Jane chips in.

Nevertheless, I will probably try this place again.  After all, it is only one of two or three places on the island that offer breakfast.

And if you offer Heather breakfast, she’ll want to order pancakes.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

In Which I Suspect I Have Latent Tendencies...Much Like The Hulk, Or Similar

I find in most normally functioning families, the members have a distinguishing role or legacy or skill of some kind. Like, he's the smart one.  Or, he's the religious one.  Or...she's the glue that helps the fam together.  Or, she's the savvy one, so she's the Power of Attorney. In my family, that system went something like this: My dad was The Dad.  Cantankerous, crotchety, and especially tight with daughters' curfew times.  Also, not a fan of driving in Big Cities. My mom was the long-suffering, patient, reserved one. My brother was the baby, the one who got away with murder, the namesake, and also, Frosty Hoarder. Me?  My legacy?  The Ruiner of Remote Controls.  No lie.  Although I've repressed the memories, my parents claim I destroyed at least two remotes in my tenure as Child Under The Roof.  Remote #1: milk spillage; Remote #2: applesauce spillage. So, now you see why my younger brother was the favorite. Anyway, t...

From Government Regulations to Chicken

So, I really wanted tonight's post to be whippy and biting and highly intelligent...and I've even got the perfect topic - government wine regulations: Europe vs. the US (subtitle: European Governments Seem to Trust Their Citizens A Whole Lot More The US, Otherwise Why Don't French, et al., Wine Labels Have the Surgeon General's "Pregnant Women Should Not Drink This/This Beverage Impairs Your Brain" Warning). But, I realized that to begin a post like that, I should probably know the answer to the question, yes?  Why do American wine labels include the warning, when, I don't know, isn't just common sense?  A quick search of this very query lands me at Wikipedia, which is good enough for a rude overview, but nothing that indicates why it's a law in the first place. Hence, more reading is required.  I hope to get to it soon.  It's almost August, two-thirds of this year is nearly gone, and sometimes I feel as I am moving very, very quickly along...

New Year's Solutions

I've never been a fan of resolutions at this time of year.  Usually, a resolution is what a person makes to "solve" an old recurring problem ( this year, I really am going to quit smoking, eat better, or stop reading Nicholas Sparks novels, etc. ). And usually, a resolution is vague.  As in, I'm going to get healthy!  But, I have no real plan of action of how to do it!! Despite my cynicism about making NY Resolutions, I do feel the need every end-of-year to come to make some kind of decisions about the year ahead - plans, goals, visions, etc.  2013 has been the year of indecision and immobility.  For me, anyway.  2014 will very likely be the year of movement...it's been looming on the horizon now for some time. I'm not much of a planner...I never really have been.  I've just sort of let things fall into my lap...and well, things have worked out okay for me, most of the time.  Professionally speaking, that is.  But now, I've been having ...