I've been away from this blog for awhile. I think it's because my muse was hanging out at The Original Pancake House in Ballard/Crown Hill. She's all like "independents are all well and good, but sometimes you just have to have a pancake the size of your head." I think she was talking about the Dutch Babies, which are, indeed, head sized.
It is a national chain, but it doesn't feel like one. Except for maybe the shiny, shiny menus.
The Swedish pancakes come with Lingonberries. Also, they are very tasty.
But even though lingonberries are grown locally, they are rather expensive. Maybe the chain insists that they use only real Swedish berries.
Whatever the reason, the above 2/3 size Swedish pancake will run you about the same as this massive attack of pancakes. It brings a teardrop to my eye, archaic music references to my blog, and upsetness to my tum-tum (I love pancakes but they don't love me).
I had to have help finishing these. For me that's saying a lot. A hell of a lot. A phrase which also describes my breakfast.
But enough about the food. I can tell that you're ready to hear about the collectible plates.
It's very much a family place. Folks of all ages are coddled by warm woods and country chairs. And yes, collectible plates line the walls. Just like at my grandma's house. It's not cool But it is nice. Sometimes it's good to get away from cool. Sometimes nice is the only thing that will satisfy.
ps. Here's what it looks like on the outside.
Not fancy, but functional. I think my grandma would approve. I think I do too.