I haven't gone to the café yet, as I don't want my son to know about them. My son LOVES pancakes, and if I don't like them, I really don't want to subject myself to constant whining. So, I thought the best plan was to go get pancakes by myself at some point and if I like them, then introduce them to my son.
Since I stay home with my son, I don't get time by myself very often. When I do, I don't spend that time at restaurants. I spend it alone at home - usually working or cleaning or cooking! Since my son has started school, I haven't been trying out new cafes. Instead, I've been running around trying to accomplish so much. Therefore, when I was thinking about what to do with our friends when my husband was at work, I knew we would go to the coffee shop and, finally, I could try the much fanaticized about pancakes.
Last night, I told my friends about our destination. After dropping my son off at school, we would walk over to the café and try the pancakes. They were just as excited as I was. So, this morning we executed the plan. We excitedly sat down in plush leather chairs and perused the menu. They currently have a special menu featuring strawberry pancakes. We looked at each other excitedly and picked different things on the menu so we could share. I wanted the strawberry baked soufflé pancakes. My girlfriend chose the strawberry French toast. And her husband picked the kiln-baked soufflé with chocolate sauce.
Our mouths were watering as we pressed the call button to place our order. As soon as the waitress arrived, I pointed to what we wanted and she shook her head no. She then told us that pancakes were not available until after 11 am. It was only 9 am. So I asked about the French toast. She shook her head no again. And I tried the soufflé to no avail as well. She then broke the news that we were looking at the wrong menu. We could only pick from a different menu. She then left to let us lick our wounds and start over from scratch in our decision making.
Discouraged, and tempted to leave, we picked from the very limited breakfast menu. We pressed the call button once again, and she reappeared. I told them the first choice, and I was again met with a negative head shake. I turns out my friend's selection was only available on weekends and holidays! I was ready to loose it. I felt like screaming in frustration. Really? Really? At this point I wanted to leave. The only reason I didn't was because of my friends. I had withheld breakfast from them in preparation for our huge pancakes to come.
Finally, through gritted teeth, I ordered simple breakfasts from the VERY limited selections. I had a salad and hot tea. My girlfriend had French toast with a hard boiled egg and salad as well as orange juice. And her husband had a baked egg with demi glaze and rice with toast along with orange juice. And I tried not to throw a temper tantrum.
I just felt like the whole experience was like a metaphor for most of my life in Japan. Things don't come easily at all. I work so hard to understand and I still regularly miss the mark. It seems so simple to want and get pancakes for breakfast, but the rules here don't always make sense to me and I can't follow rules that I don't know or understand. And even when someone tells me the basics, I get confused in the nitty gritty. I was suddenly overjoyed I had not brought my son. He would have been so disappointed to have been promised pancakes and then not have them delivered - probably even more than I was.
When our food arrived, it tasted good. My salad was not spectacular, but it was fine. My friends enjoyed their more traditional breakfast choices. When I tried my friend's French toast, I decided that I would try to come back again for their soufflé-style pancakes. It was so soft and not too sweet. I wanted to gobble all up. Maybe the pancakes are also worth the wait and aggravation.
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