When I’m on the road, I eschew eating at chain restaurants.  I would rather starve than patronize an Applebee’s or, God forbid, a Chili’s.  Gag.  My crew feels the exact same way, so we often go out of our way to find restaurants off the eaten path.  If you’re gonna be in a strange city then I highly suggest you celebrate local flavor.  Plus, Mom and Pop joints are hard-up for your $$$ and appreciate your business more than you know.

On a lark, one of my friends took me to Pancake Circus in Sacramento about seven years ago.  (Thanks, P2!)  It’s a well-known diner tucked in the heart of California’s capitol city.  I was instantly mesmerized by the late ‘60’s inspired interior and exterior.  You walk inside and it was as if time stopped circa 1968.  Even the servers have exotic ‘60’s names like Lulu, Imogene and Mavis.

Today, I suggested (read that: demanded) my crew visit Pancake Circus for breakfast.  Not only has the décor never been updated since 1972, neither has the pricing.  I wish I could say it’s a little hidden gem, but the patrons are all ravenous die-hards.  “You know, I’ve been coming here since I was a little boy,” said a security guard in the line in front of us.  “You ‘fellas are in for a treat.”  How he knew we were from out of town, I’ll never know.

The place runs with the efficiency of a well-oiled military operation.  Creepy clown paintings hang from every available flat, upright surface.  The mood is upbeat and a little zany, which is probably due in big part to the clientele.  Many of them demand to be served by their favorite server.  God help the Pancake Circus-goer who doesn’t get the waitress they requested.  It’s all fun and games until you don’t get seated in Beulah-Marie’s section.

Pancakes are served with every dish.  I ordered a glass of ice water and they delivered the water along with a plate of hotcakes.  The pancakes come with every topping imaginable.  My friend Cris made the mistake of ordering blueberries with whip cream on his ‘cakes.  When the plate arrived I had a hard time seeing him across the booth due to the volcanic mass of white froth on his plate.

When the servers ask, “Is everything okay, hon?”, they don’t really mean it.  That’s because nothing ever goes wrong at Pancake Circus.  It’s some sort of weird sort of Utopian society where maple syrup brings everyone together.  If you want run-of,the-mill-breakfast food, go to IHOP.  If you want an uncomplicated Zen experience that involves hash browns with a side a psychedelic retro infusion, go to Pancake Circus.  You won’t regret it.  And you’ll realize how much better things were in 1969.