My friend and I telepathically fancied pancakes, we both knew that would be the perfect bundle of goodness to consume. Then Connie jumped in and frantically hyperventilated with excitement, as though she had a eureka moment and asked, "have you been to My Old Dutch?"
Being someone that isn't really an eating out expert, as I don't usually donate my savings on food chains other than splashing out with friends, I shamefully replied with an extended "nooooooo..."
I got the most dramatic and longest pause ever, as if to say "you've never tried My Old Dutch?"
(keep up!)
And then she light-heartedly and abruptly concluded with "We're going to My Old Dutch!"
(and that's final!)
So we were in My Old Dutch. Deceivingly My Old Dutch IS NOT DUTCH OKAY!
It is a traditional pancake franchise based in London (Kensington, Holborn, Chelsea) and they have been flipping pancakes since 1959.
If you're indecisive, like me, fishing out a topping combination out of the haystack of options seems physically impossible. But I've figured it is always fulfilling selecting something you have never tried before, something you crave and something that isn't pumped with so much indulgence you won't be able to finish it!
The question was:
Do I want sweet or savoury?
Do I want a light thin crepe or a stomach hugging stack of American pancakes?
Do I want to have a topping combo bonanza already on the menu or do I want to keep it simple and build my own toppings?
Eyes were expanding, drifting from one option to the next, whilst the clock was ticking. We were constantly contradicting ourselves and changing our minds because we feared that we would order the wrong thing, or we feared that there would be something more delicious than what we've just chosen.
When the decadent skyscraper-of-a-stack arrived I realised that I sure did take the plunge. All I was interested in was dipping those rubies into the puddles of Belgian chocolate dispersed on my plate, regardless of the fact that the chocolate could have been a notch warmer, nothing could compare to the deconstructed chocolate fountain experience I had.
Each layer of pancake was like a fluffy pillow that ended up mounting to one dense mass, which is why I was defeated by food and only managed 2.5 out of the stack of 5. I was unimpressed by my performance. My heart said "finish them or it'd be a devastating waste," on the other hand my head was saying "you know you can't pursue as it is far too sickly!" I even offered to share with Connie, she adamantly refused and stuck to her own. I resigned, giving my belly a break, envying Connie's light-as-a-feather crepe that was topped with the mellow aroma of peaches and cream. She demolished the lot and licked every ounce off her plate, (not that she literally picked her plate up and started licking it) instead she swiped the residue with her finger and licked her finger. Repeating the process until the plate looked like it had just been washed.
The pancake house had a very warming and welcoming vibe that gave a homemade feel to the pancakes and so I award it a 4 star. I recommend that to ensure you are going to appreciate the flavours fully it is best to visit on an empty stomach, perhaps going for breakfast or a brunch would be more ideal as that way the pancake would seem less sickly and more gratifying. Notably remember that less is more when picking the toppings.
For me it'll definitely be a crepe next time.
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