Going to an American diner is all part of the experience – or so I was told.
Bradley and I visited a local diner for breakfast one morning and as I sat pondering the menu, I couldn’t quite believe that such offerings counted as breakfast.
Pork chops? Burgers? Pancakes with chocolate, bacon AND syrup?
I figured I’d play it safe and ordered walnut and banana pancakes – but it said you only got three.
We ordered milkshakes too…apparently this is a thing. That said, I love milkshakes so I was game for milkshakes even if it was breakfast.
Hmm….but I was hungry you see so I said to Bradley that I really liked the look of the pancakes but well, there were only three and I was hungry!
He just laughed at me and told me I’d be more than fine.
But I couldn’t help but be a little sceptical because in England, pancakes are very thin and light. I’m quite happy to admit that I can polish off a lot more than three. Three pancakes is seriously not a lot.....
But then my pancakes arrived and good god – they were huge.
Bradley saw my rather flabbergasted expression and just laughed even harder.
They were the size of dinner plates (American sized dinner plates…which is big dinner plates!) and thick. Very thick.
My stomach, who’d sat their smugly thinking “Bring it on” was now feeling like a dog with his tail between his legs…
(Yes, my stomach thinks.)
I managed to eat one…and a bit.
When the waiter came to take our plates, he looked at me and said “You’re finished?!”
I felt the judgement…
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