Migrant labor's secret breakfast
Pancake balls! Met Meghan at her neighborhood's Domku for brunch Saturday, and it met good expectations. Sure, the juice man was late, but we got to see him wheel in his hand-truck of fruit. Meghan talked plans for an iPhone-based book club. Not books on iPhones, no. The people who'd read would be on their iPhones. Meanwhile, I theorized pancake balls were how pancakes initially fell from the pancake tree.
And Eddy! Evanston almighty. Across the restaurant was a guy who looked like CRC's favorite Rhode Islander, and indeed he was, having just moved to Petworth a month ago. Eddy: "We're smiling like dorks."
I know what you're thinking. Pancake balls, not so special. The migrant workers pick a farm's seasonal crop of pancake balls from the pancake trees and carry the bushels to the pancake plant, where the pancake press turns the balls into the flat pancakes we see know and love. The bigger pancake balls are stuffed with fruit or chocolate chips, and the smaller ones become short stacks. Sitting here, a day later, with just my Tropicana and my Cheerios, I don't know how you find that boring.
