Regarding Large Pancakes and Bad Diners

Yesterday, Dan and I went out to breakfast. If we aren't cooking it ourselves or eating at Haven, we're every bit in love with Sylvester's in Northampton. Did you happen to click that link? You should, because no one can fully understand the glory that is Sylvester's without at least looking at their menu. Huevos rancheros, eggs benedict, ham-apple-chevre omelet, banana bread french toast, homemade corned beef hash... it's too much! And that's just breakfast. They do lunch, too!

But we eat at Sylvester's A LOT. And my greatest fear is eating there so much that we grow to hate it. How sad would that be? So Dan and I decided to go to a new place, about 20 minutes past Northampton, for breakfast. It offered locally sourced and organic ingredients, had an interesting menu (French meat pie, anyone?) and seemed quirky and fun.

It wasn't. Ugh! This place was in the middle of nowhere, we got lost, had to turn around twice, it was humid and musty in the dining room, and the food ended up being pretty much bad. What a disappointment.

I have always been an optimist, however. So out of the pile of burnt homefries, microwaved turkey sausage, and cold pancakes I found something precious. A blog topic. I give you:

The World's Most Atrociously Large Pancakes:

Now at first glance, they might not seem that big. But that's a butter knife on the left there. This pancake was at least one-and-a-half butter knives in diameter and almost an inch thick. And there were two of them. You can barely see the second one peeking out from the monstrosity on top of it.

When Dan ordered "two blueberry pancakes, please", the waitress asked him if he'd like one instead, "They're plate sized, you know".
"Nah, I'll take two." he says. Because he had been craving pancakes. Really craving them.
"Alright," says the waitress, "But I rarely see any man finish two."
And then, the eavesdropping gentleman across the room joins in and says, "That sounds like a challenge!"

What man can stand up to that kind of pressure? Dan couldn't. The sleeping gladiator in him awoke and attacked those pancakes with fire and zeal. He suffered and perservered but, after eating about two-thirds of he mess, he was beaten. And a little bloated and kind of drowsy.

That was breakfast. you know where we went to dinner? Roberto's. A sister restaurant to Sylvester's. And it was delicious.

The lesson of the day? Sometimes it's a good idea to just stick with what works!

With Love,
~Brande N.