Over the next few days I’ll be documenting some of the neat little examples of local flavor in Portland, which you may or may not have heard of. This breakfast-only restaurant is one @amandarichards clued me into. You make your own pancake using a griddle built into the table.
Evidently it’s very popular with screaming children and their weary parents because that’s mostly what it was packed wall to wall with. I would compare the noise level to a Chuck E. Cheese, though in fact because it’s a week day, this isn’t even as bad as it gets.
Service was excellent and attentive. @amandarichards requested, and received, gluten free batter. When you order pancakes, what you get is a squeeze bottle of pancake batter which can make “up to five pancakes”. Fair enough. The fun is in drawing various shapes that are then transformed into edible pancakes.
I let @amanda do the pancake batter drawing while I took pictures. A spiral to begin with, though more creative shapes followed. I’m indifferent to the aesthetic as it all winds up being edible in the end.
It became a banana walnut pancake, which @amandarichards was quite insistent that I try. I eventually relented and did discover it to be especially delicious. I am learning a great deal lately about the importance of obeying the women in my life for the sake of my own happiness.
Next, she drew a robot face just for me. She pours pancakes very thin and butter fries them so they become crispy. Having never had pancakes this way before, I now wish to never eat any other type.
The pancakes were technically her own order. I ordered crispy potatoes with cheese, chives, shredded sausage and sour cream, as well as a side of avocado toast. Also known as hipster chow. I felt a little gross but it was so delicious I cried a single manly tear with its own tiny beard and biceps.
The third pancake takes shape. What is it?? A rocketship?? An eggplant emoji?? Mysteries abound. That’s what they don’t tell you about this place. The artistic potential for mysterious pancake shapes.
Penis pancake is complete, and resplendent. Now when somebody tells you to go eat a dick, you can do it and enjoy yourself. My robot isn’t looking very much like a robot however. It looks like a burn victim.
“Kiillll meeeee” he says. “My existence is pain. I would do the same for you.” I don’t know if I can do it. I expected a tasty breakfast, not to be put on the spot like this. It’s a big decision and I don’t know if I can live with the blood on my hands if I go through with it.
Thus ends his suffering. May you find peace in the deep, dark pit of my tum tum, robot friend. You will be remembered for your horrifying facial burns and passion for euthanasia.
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