Pancakes make America Awesome

Italy does a lot of things right.  They pick their fruits and veg at the peak of ripeness and sell them in Mom and Pop shops.  They walk and ride bikes around the local area rather than loading up the F-250.  There are still artisans in every town.  Lots and lots of things right...However, they have done for breakfast what Kevin Fedderline has done for music.  Now I'm not saying that the Italians don't make a mean cappuccino or a flaky pastry.  No.  They do those things.  Everyday they do those things.  And only those things.  It is romantic to ride my bike past the street seating in the a.m. and see all the gorgeous Italian women eating their cappuccinos with a spoon like it is a bowl of cereal.  Romantic yes, but me and milk dated for a while and well, the break-up was messy and every time I get it in my head that we should give it another try for old times sakes, that dairy delight donkey kicks me.  So I am left with a cafe (espresso) which is about one sip, two if I am feeling lady-like.  Efficient yes, but about as romantic as watching Sponge Bob.   


This is the third foreign country logging three and a half years in Japan and a bit under three years in England.  Whenever I start making plans to go back to Mother America, the lust sets in.  My desire is split between Las Vegas, easily accessible gas stations, shopping malls with no conversion, 24 hour anything, and American breakfast.  Any country that carb loads at dawn has no choice but to be a super power.  We are ready to take on anything with out an afternoon nap...er reposo.    

Welcome to the Middlesex Diner.  You will notice it has one of my favorite qualities, it is open 24 hours a day.  Surely they meant to add "a day" and just ran out of room.  Like wise, I only realised that it wasn't the, "West Middlesex Diner" just this moment and I have been going here since I was a kid.  Guess I just have pancakes on my brain we we roll in here.  A trip home to Pa wouldn't be a trip home without the diner.  I would explain in detail, but I think maybe you will understand when you see the menu:

All stains and splitting are authentic.  I love a bargain and can't help but order the Jimmy's.  I know Jimmy after all and surely it would be rude not to.  Here is how I get mine configured:

Two eggs over easy, all sausage, add onions to the home fries, and cakes.  $4.19

Every time I order this I get through the egg whites and part of the potatoes and I wonder what I was thinking.  Now Me and sausage aren't on good terms, but my daughter is smitten so that's usually been swiped before my fork hits the twenty year old porcelain plate.  I end up on a staring contest with the hot cakes and I try to talk logic to them, "listen, I'm just not that into you today.  No, it wouldn't be different if you were toast.  Yes I know, toast is so much thinner.  Honestly I love your curves...but...well, maybe if you were rye toast with gobs of jam...oh I've gone to far now.  Listen, I'm just going to put you down here by Papa and see if he's into your roundness."   

 This is how my Dad gets his Jimmy's:

$4.19!  Worth a road trip.

Not a pastry or cappuccino in sight.  The waitresses are the same every time.  Every year.  Martha is almost as good as the breakfast with her quick, dirty humor and local gossip.  The place has charm and character oozing from its double wide interior as mix and match as a home put together over a generation.  The people are just as awesome.  The guys that come in smell of Brute and Old Spice.  The ladies look like they have just gotten their hair curled.  It's the kind of place where everyone asks who your parents are.  American breakfast are the best.  Having them at the Diner is just the extra point on the buck. 

So here's a toast to toast...and eggs.  Biscuits and gravey.  Pancakes. French toast. Scrapple. Greesey spoons and the American way.