Saturday morning Charlie made pancakes. Well, he mixed the batter and made pancakes for himself and Naomi; for which I am grateful. I walked through the kitchen and noticed Julia at the stove. She was flipping mini cakes in our small griddle, and doing a fine job of it, I must say. It reminded me of the Pancake Pantry that my parents used to take us to in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
The Pancake Pantry was established in the heart of Gatlinburg in 1960. My parents used to take my brothers and I there for breakfast every morning when we visited the Smokey Mountains, during Spring Break. The restaurant features 24 different kinds of pancakes, waffles, crepes, and other breakfast foods. One of their specialty pancakes was Silver Dollar pancakes. The miniature sized cakes came with a large dollup of whipped butter (as do all the pancakes) and warm syrup. Silver dollar pancakes were probably one of the only specialty items that I tried more than 25 years ago.
Ever aware that I would have to eat “everything on my plate,” I always stuck with the basics; eggs and toast. The rest of the family ordered up delectible creations like Strawberry Belgian Waffles, Banana Pineapple Triumph, and Chocolate Chip pancakes. From year to year we came to recognize the waitresses who met us each morning with fresh coffee and a friendly, “How are y’all this morning?”
Dwight and I took a little trip to North Carolina last October, stopping in Tennessee our first night away. While he was securing our hotel room the night we arrived, I searched for a good place to eat supper. When I typed restaurants into his GPS, the Pancake Pantry popped onto my screen. What a blast from the past! I had forgotten all about our breakfast tradition. I immediately knew where we would be having breakfast the next morning.
We were at the Pantry by 8 am the next morning, as I knew the place would fill up. A sweet 60-something waitress came over to our table with a coffee pot and drawled softly, “Good morning, y’all.” I’m almost certain that I recognized her from the old days. The paper place mats were the same griddle decorated mats from 25 years ago. I was seriously tearing up over pancakes!
Dwight ordered his usual fare: pancakes, eggs, and bacon. I decided to break with my norm- just this once- and ordered Austrian Apple Walnut crepes. They came sprinkled with a powdered sugar and topped with whipped butter. Beautiful and delicious, I only made through one and a half crepes, before pulling up my napkin. I wanted Dwight to get a picture of me with my crepes to send to my brother. Being there brought back so many memories. We took the pics, but Brian still hasn’t seen them.
It’s not likely that I’ll be buying Julia “Silver Dollar pancakes” from the Pancake Pantry. Our family vacations tend to have short road trips with “stay put” lodging, and Dad’s homemade pancakes. Nobody’s unhappy about this, but stepping back in time gave me a whole new appreciation for the nice things my parents did with us.
