Aunt Martha's Pancake House - Look for the little red house just off Glenstone.
While getting to the new places in SGF to share experiences, sometimes it’s nice to get back to some of the city’s staples and revisit them. I hadn’t been to Aunt Martha’s Pancake House in a number of years. During one of those dreaded “whatever you want” food conversations, the little red house appeared. Indecision breezed out the window as a biscuits and gravy craving built. Today it was lunch, but breakfast is suited for any meal of the day.
The diner soaks in nostalgia – my wife giggled at the “Washroom” sign above the restrooms. (Although, now I wonder if washroom might be more appropriate. Who started sleeping in there anyway? I digress.) We choose a booth in the corner and are promptly greeted. Our waitress is kind and quick – exactly the waitstaff you’d desire at a diner circa 1950. And the music (last century bebop) serves a little pep. We beat the lunch rush, but looking around everybody, customers included, seems upbeat – refreshing.
Now, that's what a pancake from a pancake house should look like. Thank you Martha.
The namesake is king of the menu. Appropriately, too. The art of the pancake is overlooked. Most people douse them with syrup and shovel away. You can’t do that with Aunt Martha’s pancakes. It’s time to savor. They are tinged golden brown but soft on the inside and served with warm maple syrup. A timeless flap jack. (I could write a romance novel about how good the pancakes are.)
The rest of the menu was filled with the necessary breakfast diner items. Platters offering egg, choice of meat and a carb side (toast, biscuits and gravy, lil pancakes). We both went with a platter. I was feeling some biscuits and gravy but couldn’t pass on pancakes so I ordered both. It was a very solid standard breakfast. The bacon and sausage were perfect, and the eggs were eggs and we’ve already talked about the pancakes. I like to eat meals like a concert, taste by taste building up to the finale. Because they were what drew me in, I ignored the signs and decided to save my craving, biscuits and gravy, for the encore of this show.
How did I miss the signs that this might not be a great biscuit and gravy experience?
Bad idea. I missed the obvious signs for bad Bs&G.
- Flat biscuit (singular)
- Gravy in a bowl on the plate
- Sausage not visible (grow up … you’re so immature)
- Gravy resembles soup (complete with spoon)
- There’s a serving of butter
I assume the problem was mostly our timing. We were in between the breakfast and lunch crowds, so we probably got the previous batch of biscuits and the bottom of the gravy. Still, I don’t have confidence in a gravy in a gravy lacking confidence. The biscuits should arrive at the table already bathing in gravy, steaming with pride, fluffingly golden brown … just knowing they’re delicious.
But, in the end, it was my mistake to hold them for last, especially at a pancake house.
Though the biscuits and gravy were left two bites shy of untouched (had to give it a second chance), it was still a good experience. The breakfast is pretty standard, but while it’s easy to find average pancakes, it’s hard to find perfect pancakes. Expect to pay around $7/person. When you check out, memorabilia surrounds the station, including a personalized photo of Willie Nelson. Aunt Martha’s is tucked away on Glenstone next to the Brown Derby International Wine Center.
