Ye Old Pancake Station

2800 Virginia Circle,

Amarillo, TX

 

3 out of 3 faces

 

I would like to take a second to apologize to all three readers of PIIYF for the recent sabbatical that we have all been on.  But we are back and I feel the need to recount the greatest Sunday breakfast of my entire life.  I must apologize that the location of the fantastic meal is not easily accessible by our standard reader, as it is located in Amarillo Texas.  Yes that Amarillo. The vast majority of the PIIYF team had gathered in Amarillo to take part in the nuptials of our Fearless Editor.  

 

Side note: I am still not convinced that this wedding was not an elaborate ruse put in place by said Editor.  I mean he is seriously out punching his weight class on this.  He has out kicked his coverage by a solid 20 yards.  My theory is that the current “Mrs.” Editor went to a really fun party dressed in her mom’s white suede mini-skirt and shoulder padded leather jacket and some drunken fool spilled red wine on it there by ruining it.  But “Mrs.” Editor didn’t have the money to pay to replace it.  In comes her geeky savior.  So instead of buy every single baseball prospectus of the modern era our Editor bought a replacement out fit with the understanding that she would make him cool.  Just a theory.

 

Now back to breakfast.

 

After a fantastic night of celebration following the wedding a group of PIIYF contributors awoke feeling slightly hazy and very hungry.  We had been told that there was a Mecca of sorts called Ye Old Pancake Station that could cure what ailed us.  We all had plenty of time before our flights out of the flatlands so off we went.  After some mild confusion about the location of “The Station” we finally arrived.  Indulge me for just a second as I set the scene.  There were six of us that had decided to breakfast at this location:

 

Chief Face Officer

CFO’s Wife

Minister of Science

MOS’s Ladyfriend

Myself

My Ladyfriend

 

We pulled into the parking lot of a slightly used strip center and were greeted by and absolutely slammed parking lot.  This should have been our first sign that we were in for a treat.  Upon entering the establishment we met with the proprietor of “The Station”; a man in his mid to late fifties perched on a stool as his weight was too much to bear all day.  As we scanned the clientele we realized that 80% of the people seated would be considered morbidly obese.  This should have been our next sign that the food would be great.  The food was apparently so good that people were literally eating themselves to death (diabetes, heart disease, and stroke).

 

Undeterred by the scene before us we were seated at a table for six directly in the center of the restaurant, thereby giving us perfect angles to watch the circus around us.  At this point the CFO’s wife who was wearing a very stylish walking boot for her broken foot decided to follow her doctor’s orders and take a Darvacet for the pain that she was feeling.  I inquired if I might be able to get one of those for the pain I was going through, but as a licensed medical professional she felt that creating a new addiction for me might break some code of conduct or some crap.  You may be wondering why I am telling you this, but I promise it comes back into play a little later.

 

Almost immediately we were awed by an octogenarian with a cowboy hat and a rattlesnake hat band.  When I say a rattlesnake hat band I mean it was a hat band made out of the hide of a rattlesnake that had the skinned and dried head at the front baring its fans and the dried rattle standing straight up in the back right corner of the hat.  The ladies with us were instantaneously enthralled by this John Wayne style bad ass.

 

Once we had gotten our wits about us we were able to fully engage the menu.  The CFO and I were tracker beamed in by the Chicken Fried Steak and Fried Egg breakfast.  Nothing is a better re-raise your hangover than fried meat and gravy, that is just science.  But that wasn’t all that you came with our meal.  We also had to decide on two additional items.  The list was:

 

Hasbrowns

Grits

Home Fries

Pancakes

Biscuits and Gravy

 

Fair enough I will compound my gluttony with Hashbrowns and Pancakes.  Sounds like a winning combo.  I am incapable of remembering exactly what everyone had that morning but I am able to remember exactly what the CFO’s wife ordered.  I was feeling pretty confident with my order until I heard this little woman order a beef fajita omelet with pancakes and biscuits and gravy.  Amazing.  

 

After a solid twenty minute wait the food began pouring out of the kitchen and engulfing every inch of table we had available.  It was astounding.  It honestly would have caused any nutritionist on the planet to break down into a sobbing mess as it was the perfect picture of the root of America’s obesity issue, but fuck’em it was delicious.  We sat there and ate until our stomachs had reached capacity.  Then we ate some more.

 

Upon checking yet another of the Seven Deadly Sins off or our weekend agenda we popped over to the Cadillac Ranch for some good old Americana.  It was pretty much the greatest Sunday of 2009 so far.

 

I give Ye Old Pancake station as many freaking faces as is allowed.  If you ever find yourself in Amarillo with an hour to kill and an artery to clog just head on over to Ye Old Pancake Station at 2800 Virginia Circle, Amarillo, TX 79109.  You won’t be disappointed.

 

 

--Joey