Pancakes? Close enough

I had decided, due to the web resource I can’t remember the name of, that I was going to go to pancake manor for P. I know it is in the city, but whichever web restaurant guide thing I looked at only had a couple of P places in the valley and they were permanently closed. It had neither Phat Pho or Peng’s Chinese Restaurant. It didn’t even have Ponycat. I need to change my web resource.

Anyway…

Pancake Manor and Nostalgia

So after a brief think about the best way to get there, I got the train to South Brisbane and ambled across the bridge to The Pancake Manor. This is one of my favourite walks to do of an evening. I love watching the gaggles of people waddling toward Southbank. Sometimes they are walking but usually, if there is enough of them, this is hindered by the ones at the front marvelling at the view of the river and the city from the bridge. This in turn slows the whole group down to an awkward waddle as they have to make way for the people that, much to their surprise, seem to need to use the bridge to go the other way.

I wound up stuck behind some waddlers going toward the city, until there were none coming toward me and I could stride around the gaggle and walk off.

I hit the Queen Street Mall and turned left to my destination. On a path that I am sure has had my boot/sneaker/foot prints worn into it since the mid 90’s along with countless other gamers, goths, students and everyone else who suddenly goes “What’s still open it’s 3am?”.

I climbed the all too familiar front steps, and paused briefly as I contemplated what I actually wanted.

As I walked in, I felt the general wave of nostalgia that generally hits me when the door shuts. The amount of times I have been in here, and three of us ordered one basket of chips. The first time I could afford to eat everything on the menu I wanted to. The first time I regretted this decision due to volume of food, yeah yeah same time.

I was seated and shown the menu.  Out of curiousity does anyone who reads this long winded thing have any menus from there from about 20 years ago? My mind insists they looked the same as they do now, but I don’t think that is right.

Crepes are pancakes too man…

I looked through the menu, there were a lot of things on it I wanted to eat.

I settled on Crepe Escape and The Ultimate.

Crepe Escape is 3 ham and cheese filled crepes, all resting on a little cushion/dollop of mashed potato, with one grilled pineapple ring and some sort of thin tomato sauce. The menu didn’t mention the dollop of potato, this isn’t a bad thing necessarily until you get surprise potato in your mouth.

I did not get surprise potato, I am observant. The potato mixed with the ham and cheese crepe was ok. It wasn’t great. I was not expecting great though. It was the way I was expecting it to be, which was the good bit.

I have had a few different crepes from pancake manor, the seafood one is my favourite, and I got this because I couldn’t remember having it before. I am pretty sure I was wrong.

It may not have been mine though.

The Ultimate followed. I have had this many times, I love this. Two crepes filled with cream cheese and sultanas, with raspberry coulis and vanilla ice cream. The whole thing combined seems so simple, yet tastes wonderful.

Ok, maybe raspberry coulis is not simple to make.

I can’t help wolfing this down.

I look at it. I think maybe I shouldn’t eat this that quickly. I wonder where the first half disappeared to. I realise that I must have already eaten it as I am cleaning up the last of the crepe and coulis.

As always I was left contemplating whether or not I could eat a second one. I chose no and went home.

Happily I felt like I had eaten enough for the night.

Waddling home.

I was feeling a bit full and wandered to the Myer centre to catch a bus home. There are few times I wish I had a car. This was one of them, but I really only wanted it to drive to the Myer Centre to get the bus.

I don’t mind walking home feeling full. Ok waddling home full. I forget that there are people around me and my mind just wanders. This occasionally leads to my  mouth wandering.

So if you ever see me walking along a path, singing and laughing to myself, I am not drunk.

I am full.

Good night.