(So this post is much delayed. I do realize this...please do not fault me for it.)
In the midst of the holiday season rush (that is, trying to pack suitcases, load cars, and catch flights) time was running short for our annual December dinner. So...we rescheduled to lunch. Which got rescheduled to breakfast. Which is how I came to finally find myself at The Pancake Pantry for breakfast two days before Christmas.
In the 1.5 years I've been a Nashvillian, I'd yet to eat at this famous local joint. I just refused to stand in line for breakfast. I just could not imagine something delicious enough to wait for more than an hour to eat. Especially if it was cold. Or hot. Or an extreme temperature in any sort of way. Well, here's my advice: Should you find yourself craving fabulous pancakes (or you are currently very upset by Nashville's frozen waffle drought) then you should visit The Pancake Pantry at a random hour on a random weekday.
At 7:57 on Christmas Eve eve, there was no line and no waiting. (However, there was a line by the time we were finished.) We were crowded onto the row of banquette seats with seven other people and their winter coats, but it was cozy and not all that uncomfortable. I quickly browsed the menu (but let's be honest, ordering coffee was my number 1 priority!) and settled on the sweet potato pancakes. Just to verify my choice, I asked the waitress for her opinion. "OH, the sweet potato pancakes. Yeah, that's what we're known for," was her response. Apparently this avoider of long lines and waiting was not aware of this. But I ordered them anyway. And let me tell you, I was NOT disappointed!
At 7:57 on Christmas Eve eve, there was no line and no waiting. (However, there was a line by the time we were finished.) We were crowded onto the row of banquette seats with seven other people and their winter coats, but it was cozy and not all that uncomfortable. I quickly browsed the menu (but let's be honest, ordering coffee was my number 1 priority!) and settled on the sweet potato pancakes. Just to verify my choice, I asked the waitress for her opinion. "OH, the sweet potato pancakes. Yeah, that's what we're known for," was her response. Apparently this avoider of long lines and waiting was not aware of this. But I ordered them anyway. And let me tell you, I was NOT disappointed!
Served with a pat of butter so big it hardly qualified as a pat anymore (shmear, maybe?) and a warm, cinnamon cream syrup, these pancakes were quite possibly one of the best breakfast foods I've inhaled lately. Reminiscent of the pumpkin spice-flavored anything that I enjoy during the fall, these cakes were fluffy and filling without feeling too heavy. Of course I was the last of the group to finish eating and of course I could not get anywhere close to cleaning the 5 massive flapjacks off my plate, but I gave it my best shot. And it was so worth the wait, the early hour, and the subsequent comatose state I found myself in until mid-afternoon.
So here is my post-Pancake Pantry conclusion: choose your timing wisely and make this a must-eat when in Nashville. My new mantra is to live like a tourist in my own town. And so I encourage you to visit this touristy hot-spot and enjoy a warm, delicious, and generous breakfast. Pick a random time, have a Tuesday morning brunch, and head on over to this Hillsboro Village favorite. You'll be glad you did. I'm glad I (finally) did!
And, if the line is wrapping around the building and you simply can't wait for breakfast, I hear Fido just expanded.
Buon appetitio, y'all!
I love the Pancake Pantry (or as I affectionately call it, The Pant.) I've found that on weekends the best time to get there is around 8 or 8:30. I've never had to wait more than 20 minutes doing this. And I've always found the line has weaved its way around the corner after I'm finished eating.
ReplyDeleteI would call it a shmear but I don't like that word. Although, I do think it's the best description.
The Small Appetite plate is the perfect size for a girl like me. I get an egg, 3 pancakes, bacon and a drink and walk out handing the cashier a ten dollar bill. Perfect-o.