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Restaurants & Bars 2

West San Jose, The Original Pancake House

The Ranger | Jul 21, 200507:57 PM

I was one of the original customers when this place first opened up in the 80's and loved the charm and personal service that I received with every visit. This is why I kept going back; a loyalty to the old ways.

I am finally giving up, though.

I was out-and-about running errands when my stomach growled and I got a craving for an apple pancake. Never one able to restrain my impulses, I knew exactly where to drive. I should have controlled that impulse but that, of course, is with a 20/40 hindsight view now.

I pulled into the lot at 10:05 and saw that there were a few cars but not so much as to give warning that there would be a wait. I parked and walked in to the cashier/hostess station. Most of the booths were filled but my needs were simple; a table would be fine.

And there I stood, waiting.

After five minutes of standing, I went in search of the host/ess. She was yammering to a server behind the station wall, inattentive and unconcerned. I explained that I was looking to order a meal and that I'd appreciate being seated. That, it was clearly expressed, was a major inconvenience but she did pull herself away and seated me (in the corner booth for six). Whatever. It gave me room to stretch out.

I didn't need a menu so I set it aside and waited some more. The waitress was a little more attentive and came over to take my order.

"Coffee and an apple pancake."

"Anything else?"

"No thank you."

"It takes, like, 30 minutes for the apple."

"I'm in no hurry." (Gahds was that a mistake to say.)

I got my coffee, still good and strong, and sat back to await my feast.

Five cups of coffee later, I was getting antsy and fidgety. The server came over and said that the cook would have my meal up shortly and filled my cup up again.

I decided that ODing on caffeine wasn't something I wanted to splash across the Muckity News so I pushed the cup away and went back to waiting.

True to her word, the meal did come up shortly after she stopped by and I dug in. It didn't taste right. Gummy and gloppy and... warm. That meant only one thing; it'd sat down on the set-up board waiting to be put up under the heatlamps. I signalled over to the waitress and explained that I wasn't satisfied. She apologized and I got out for the cup of coffee.

That, I'm afraid, will be the last time I go back. I've protested this in the past but today has cinched it. No more.

Avoid The Original Pancake House at all costs.

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