This morning I had breakfast with my old friend Cassie at The Griddle Cafe, where you can often spot hungover D-list celebrities soaking up the previous night's excesses with greasy hash browns and pancakes the size of Frisbees.
I had brown sugar banana pancakes. As delicious as they were, I was no match for them. I am a big eater, but I trembled in the presence of these powdered sugar-dusted manhole covers. I was not able to eat even half of my breakfast. I could not help but agree when Cassie pronounced herself "thoroughly unimpressed". Of course, that's easy to say for someone who ordered oatmeal with strawberries. But still, she had a point, as you can see below.
The reason you can't see the plate is that they are bigger than the plate. All THREE of them. Honestly, I cannot be expected to finish that. The waiter noticed that I was slowing down and asked if I wanted to take them home. "Hell yes, I do!" I replied. "I'm not letting these pancakes beat me. They've won the battle, but I will win the war." And tonight for dinner, I did!*
*I did not.
I swear, they're almost gone. These pancakes and I are having the longest relationship I've had in some time, and I respect them enough to finish them. Dearest brown sugar banana pancakes...tomorrow morning is going to be the end for us, as I taste you for the last time. Our parting will be bittersweet, especially if I run out of syrup. But fear not. If today is any indication I will feel your presence in my body for a long time to come.