Missed my hot yoga class this morning. Me and the dogs slept in. I drove around looking for a new pancake place. Every few days, I let myself have pancakes for breakfast. That is my carb/sugar splurge. Every good diet has one. I got tired of the energy at the place I had been going. It is a big tourist attraction and there is a wall of celebrities there—even Melissa Etheridge had been there. Anyway, I have been there a few times and each time they put me at the same table. Bring me a pitcher of water and a pitcher of coffee. First of all, I don’t drink tap water and second—how much coffee can one person drink? The pancakes are good but they don’t fit on the plate and I do find that appauling. The restaurant seems to epitomize all I don’t like about American culture—supersize me then treat me for diabetes and obsesity. Anyway, the energy in there feels pretty hinckey.
On a side note, the other day for lunch/dinner I tried a Mexican place with no one in there. Usually, my rule of thumb is if there are cars then go in otherwise don’t. But I thought maybe this is one of those joints that should be on Diners, Drive Ins, & Dives and I will discover it. No such luck. The food was reheated and the nachos were stalel. I am sure they will be going under soon. Maybe I should try to get them on Restaurant Impossible—they need it. Looks like El Torito from 1985 threw up in there. Remember the fried ice cream:)
Anyway, back to my pancake search, I then stopped in the only diner in town. I walked in to a diner like place and it had that same stale, dead energy. I want to go to a place that is alive, fun, and people make food with love. So, I asked the hostess if they had a paper then excused myself to go buy one—Adios! Off I went out of my little West Sedona oasis into Uptown Sedona. I was remembering from my last stay that the only breakfast place was a western chain that didn’t serve pancakes. So, off to Oak Creek—the Village as the locals call it. As I was driving through the scenic red rocks, I thought what am I doing? I am on some endless search of pancakes. Why do I want pancakes? Why do I need pancakes? Aren’t I always telling my clients, “You have all that you need.” I should take my own advice. But I pressed on.
I saw a little hippie café that I remembered from my last trip. I had already been there and I would go again. Isn’t funny how we always find our way back to what we did before? Or is that just me? Anyway, I made a loop around and thought drive a bit further, see what else is there. Then I saw this cute little bake shop with a cool name—Desert Flour, something like that. There were cars so it had to be good.
They had a limited menu (good sign of a quality restaurant). I saw they had pancakes. There house specialty was some sort of French toast cranberry special but I wanted my pancakes. I order them and waited at the breakfast bar. Most of the folks in there were locals. There is always one regular trying it on the wait staff. I couldn’t tell if she was just being nice or they were really friends. She kept pretending she was scattered and couldn’t remember anything. I thought to myself—please remember my pancakes. After awhile, I thought wow they must be making them from scratch! Yummy, Yummy in my Tummy Tummy. Then Suzy scattered brought them over. Three little mini pancakes and 4pieces of fruit on a huge plate.
Well, I was underwhelmed. They were stirred up too much—big mistake in making pancakes. I did eat them and thought wow is this what I needed, what I was searching for. I don’t know maybe I was looking for that satisfied feeling I used to get after my Dad made me pancakes and I ate till I couldn’t eat anymore. He made them for me for like 2 years, everyday when I was little. That is one of my good memories of him. I left missing my dogs thinking I should go pick them up and off we went to Cathedral Rock.
On our walk, I felt it—just calm, at peace, comforted, taken care of and hugged. The energy of Cathedral rock is suppose to be feminine—go figure. Now, that was a pancake.