Hell yes! At the Pancake Circus. This is not your typical circus. Though I confess, the last circus I went to was with Grandpa Welsh at some arena in Cincinnati and the only food I inhaled were Cheese Balls by Planters. Which are excellent. But they’re not pancakes.
I don’t even like pancakes, but I like the idea of a Pancake Circus. A place where Pancakes tame lions and ride bicycles across tight ropes. A place where there’s a Bearded Pancake, or maybe a Pancake with three boobs. There’s none of this at the Pancake Circus. There is however, a suspicious amount of iconography reminiscent of Winnie the Pooh, a pretty substantial Clown Painting collection, vinyl booths and an inviting counter, chefs with tall hats and safety goggles, a waitstaff of extraordinarily personable gals, and lots of coffee.
The food sucks. That is to say, I don’t like pancakes and I’m eating at the Pancake Circus. I ordered the corned beef hash, as I have a tendency to do, thanks to a long running experiment where I investigate the origins of corned beef hash. I also don’t like corned beef hash, but I sacrifice for science. My sample size is steadily increasing (n=23), something I’m very proud of. If you’re curious, corned beef hash bears the surname Hormel and probably arrives via Sisco. Needless to say, the corned beef hash is no good at the Circus. I suggest the Big Top Breakfast, as it was suggested to yours truly by Irene, our lovely waitress.
Original CBH: http://hashthingsout.blogspot.com/2007/11/bite-of-history.html, an amazing resource for corned beef hash and real americana-esque postings on the quest for CBH in Seattle.
Pancake CIrcus CBH!
The coffee was excellently mediocre in a way that my tastebuds, barely rested after an evening of Buddy Weiser and Joe Camel enjoyed. The cream splashed into brown mug like a white knight rescuing my mouth from the bitterness of overroasted beans, and then all at once, life was perfect. Until I ate Pancake Mountain, with it’s snow cap of whipped butter and avalanche of syrup. It made me ill. Seriously. I spent the next three hours slightly nauseous and woozy. And I only ate half a mountain.
The crowd varies.
Cute crowed at the PC
First time at the Circus I watched a large group of folks playing Keno and occasionally taking a bite out of Pancake Mountain. This time, it was a nicely mixed crew, and Big Money and I had a field day taking pictures. Especially of the table.
Tony the Tiger’s Bail Bonds!
The point of this site isn’t to review, but to document. That said, this place is perfect on a hot day, on a cool day, on a rainy day, on any damn day. Just don’t get the hash, or the pancake sandwich, or the chicken fried steak and eggs. Or do. Because it’ll make you happy. Happy to know the food sucks, you’re ill, and you don’t care. And that’s what it’s all about. Clowns, safety goggles, Keno, Pancake Sandwich, nausea, and some shitty coffee. Dreamy.
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