I think I appreciate being often near Route 66 more now than as a kid, when all I was concerned about was how confusing it was that this street had multiple names (Route 66 v. Alosta v. Foothill Blvd., etc). But now, all I care about here are the great food finds.
A prime example, well-known and well loved: The Donut Man, with its killer strawberry-stuffed donuts. And really, there's nothing else to say about this place that hasn't been said already. If you haven't yet visited The Donut Man, just get down there, pronto.
Today I want to share my foodventure at another Route 66 establishment that has become really popular among locals: Flappy Jack's Pancake House Restaurant.
In contrast to The Donut Man, which has a natural, authentic Route 66 charm (whatever the hell that means), Flappy Jack's is one of those places that tries super hard to give off the look and feel that it's been around forever. Inside its walls are adorned with cliché Americana decor, but I remember driving by this building when it used to be a Carrows.
No matter. As long as they can back it up with good food, who the eff cares, right?
Yes, it's very easy to forgive and forget once the waitress plops down in front of you a plateful of pancakes each larger than your face. (Those with small, dainty faces: pretend just for a moment that your face is large and rotund, like mine.)
These banana-nut pancakes -- with bananas and pecans throughout and on top -- were warm, fluffy and inviting. As if I could just snuggle between them and sleep and/or eat contentedly.
This quickly got to be a very rich breakfast, so I countered with a side of savory sausage links. Maple syrup and sausage is always a beautiful thing. I would say the sausage became the guling to my pancake bed, but that would be taking this metaphor just a little too far.
My cousin got the stuffed French toast -- logs of bread filled with sweet vanilla cottage cheese, and served with strawberry compote.
The next time we visit I must remember to ask them how they construct such a fine bread log of cottage cheesy goodness.
My boyfriend went with the country fried steak smothered in gravy and served with "home-style potatoes" aka hashbrowns, and a small stack of (normal-sized) buttermilk pancakes.
This regularly comes with eggs instead of fruit, but he does not like/eat eggs.
A dish I'm tempted to try next: bacon pancakes. After all, everything is better with bacon, as they always say.
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Flappy Jack's Pancake House Restaurant
640 W. Route 66