Breakfast #12: Swedish Pancakes

There was a great article in the Seattle Times this week about how Seattlites have taken the slow food movement to heart...demonstrated by the fact that people take the 1-hour trip by car (and car ferry) over to the other side of Puget Sound for a monthly posh breakfast at a "local" farm.  Not sure if the author meant it to be ironic or not, but I thought it was kinda funny, and it got me thinking about where to eat this month. Luckily, tucked into the same section of the paper was a photo of set of Swedish pancakes topped with lingenberries and whipped cream...advertising a monthly event much closer to home:The Swedish Cultural Center's monthly pancake breakfast.

I'm pretty sure that no one that stood in line with us traveled across the Sound, but the parking lot was packed, and street parkin was hard to come by.  Just before we walked in the door, a #28 bus stopped and a gaggle of pancake eaters emerged, and got a head of us in line. No problem as it was early; 8:35 a.m. and the house was hopping. Liora and Howard were waiting for us and we all waited in line together.  There were perhaps two dozen people ahead of us, and we could see that there were not too many seats out in the dining area. The process appeared to be that you pay, get in line, grab your plates, and then walk around looking for empty seats in the grand dining hall...not really the best system when you are carrying kids and kids jackets...and probably carrying a couple of plates of pancakes.

But the line moved fast, and soon I had three full plates of Swedish pancakes, topped off with berries and a genrous dolllp of whipped cream, plus a slice of ham for garnish. All this for $8, as kids 5 and under are free...plus bottomless cups of church coffee and orange juice.   We five quickly found seats at perhaps the best table in the house: right in front of the stage and dance floor, with a fine view of the 15 or so Swedish folk musicians who were belting out one of the greats from the old country. Kids and adults got up and danced, then went back to eating.  Pacifica was invited out onto the dancefloor by a girl her age, but decided to work on her whipped cream and berries instead. After she cleaned them off her 'cakes, she was out on the dance floor, prancing with the best of them.

 

Soon, it was just Howard and Issei and I enjoying our food. The cakes were cooked about as good as you can get them, and served up plenty hot. Perhaps the best pancake breakfast I'd been to, food wise, and with the music and dancing...well, that just took the cake.  Issei finished his plate and then started working on mine, and then we went back for seconds (two cakes instead of three), and we wound up having a nice chat with some Swedish folks at the table and a couple of other friends that happened to be at the breakfast as well.  We timed things well as the folk music ended, and while the stage was being readied for a pair of accordionistas, Pacifica came back and finished her meal.  When the music started up again she was back on the floor, and Issei and  I went out for a couple of spins, too.  We asked about seeing some folk dancers, and found out that they were already there and done by 8:30. Well, there is always next month, and we don't even have to take the ferry to get there.

Breakfast #9, 10, 11: Back to Basics

The past three months have been plenty busy for us (moving to a new house, school search, kendo practice...), but we kept up the Pancake Jack and Jill tradition.  The past few breakfasts have taken us back to some of our old favorites, kept us in touch with family and friends, and along the way we've introduced a new frequent diner, Issei.  Despite weighing in at only 28 pounds, he can still pack away the 'cakes with the best of them, and (unlike his sister) does not get too distracted by the globs of butter--he heads for the 'cakes.

In November we entertained my parents, and took them down to Patty's Egg Nest, the place where our tradition began, and conveniently located within walking distance of where we lived then, and where we live now.  Patty's was able to seat our party of six without any fuss, and the kids were all smiles as they started drawing on the placemats and we sipped on simple coffee, bottomless coffee, the kind that makes me think of high school nights at Perkins and Country Kitchen up in Bemidji.  I tried out the Swedish pancakes, which were light, eggy, and even better than they looked.  I can't recall what all the other had, but the kids were excited by the whipped cream-smiley faces on their shortstacks.  Pacifica ate the whipped cream, and one piece of fruit, then got into the butter, and started mooching whipped cream from Issei.  I think Pacifica had one bite of the pancake, while Issei made a generous dent in his.  The plastic toys were cute and kept the kids entertained at the busstop as we waited for a bus to take us down to the Ballard farmers market...all in all, another nice trip to the 'Nest.

In December, both Pacifica and Issei got dolled up to try out Portage Bay Cafe in the University District, and we were joined by Liora and Howard.  My old commuter bus drove right by this Portage Bay every morning, and I'd been hearing how great it is, so decided to check it out.  The first thing that was bad was our seating--we were seated in a high-foot-traffic zone near the door, and Issei's high chair was plop in the middle of the thoroughfare.  This despite there being plenty of other seats deeper in the cafe, and plenty of smaller parties starting to shuffle in through the door.  The kids each got a bag of crayons and something to write on, and then some juice I did not want to pay for was delivered ("do you want juice?" the waitress asks the 2-3-and 4 yer old..."Yes!" they reply...duh) but soon the table was crowded out and then things began to tip, crayons began to break and fall under the feet of the passing staff and customers, and it all generally caused great commotion and consternation for myself and Howard.  Next came the 'cakes, and we needed to get up and serve ourselves from the buffet of toppings, which turned into a big old hassle, with kids calling out what they wanted to us harried dads "more strawberries! no, not blueberries! put it back!! Ug, I wanted MORE strawberries!" ...When we dads finally got around to eating, I recall Howard being a bit disappointed with his meal. Mine was fine, but I was pretty happy to just get out of there.  And then the bill came, two juices, two kids meals, and mine, and I felt like it really was not work $50, even with the two green crayons that Issei snuck out in his pockets. 

We started the decade at what I am beginning to sense is the best Pancake house in Seattle...the Pancake House.  Georgia and Joe joined us early on a bright morning.  One great thing about the Pancake House is its neon sign, which has a chubby chef flipping neon pink cakes into the sky, and the heated hall where you can sit and sip coffee and wait for a table (rather than standing out in the parking lot).  Luckily we always get in early, before the church rush, and so we had no trouble getting a seat.  Our seats were a little cramped, but when the waitress brought out some apple pancake samples we forgot all about it--sweet baked apple slices encased in an egg-rich cake batter, nicely flavored with butter, sugar, and cinnamon.  How can you go wrong with that?  I went for the bacon pancakes, which were simple 'cakes loaded with chopped up bits of bacon.  The savory was nice, but I think I should have gone for a full baked apple pancake instead.  Issei went for kids blueberry, while Pacifica went for what she always gets, the chocolate chip short stack.  Issei and I cleared our plates before Pacifica finished one of hers, and we decided to bring the leftovers home to Mai. There are still at least 12 different pancakes there for me to try, so will we be back? You bet.