By David Pescovitz at 10:01 am Mon, Nov 19, 2012
Hand-making food to resemble faceless industrial product makes Paul sad.
I’m only bothered if you attempt to make it taste like tasteless/graceless/faceless industrial product. To me, this is a subterfuge of expectations in order to point out how bland the industrial food can be.
I’m not bovvered.
I’d put the word “pancake” in quotes, not Hostess Cupcake
OK, but you’d be mistaken. They are real pancakes but they are not real Hostess Cupcakes.
My heart just stopped looking at that. I think Henry’s point is that chocolate syrup covered chocolate cakey-slabs are not quite anyone’s definition of “pancake”.
Nor does that qualify as a Hostess Cupcake. I like pancakes, and I like Hostess Cupcakes as much as any child of the 70s who rebelled against his great aunt’s “healthy alternative” carob creations, but this…
I was a fan of anything and everything chocolate until a fateful April morning in 1980 when ten-year-old Donnie and his family visited Aunt Emma’s Pancakes next to the Fabulous 7 Motel in equally fabulous El Cajon, CA. I discovered they had chocolate pancakes, with chocolate chips! I enthusiastically ordered a stack, drowned it in maple syrup, ate about six bites, then gave up, swearing off chocolate of all types for the next week or more. I eventually got over it, but I’ve never forgotten how nauseatingly rich and overwhelmingly chocolatey those pancakes were. My gorge slightly rises just thinking about it, and since I just finished off a Six Dollar Memphis BBQ Burger from Carl’s Jr, I can’t afford that thought at all right now.
Can’t look again at the picture above, either.
I wish there were a pancake that looks like 60,00 working wages.
I absolutely love chocolate, but that thing looks fudging disgusting.
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