Here’s a little known fact about Marek. If you go up to him and say, “I took her by the hand and my heart was thumpin'” then he will goofy grin and say, “hey man, you crazy or something?” Seriously, he does. Try it.

Kids these days, they say the cutest things.

We got in the pancake mobile, which is actually a 1967 VW bus with a paint job that makes it look like a 7th-generation Toyota Celica. That’s a good paint job.

“Take a picture of my sticker, dad, take a picture!” So I took a picture of his sticker. What would you do? You’d probably take a picture of his sticker, too.

We visited the Fireplace Restaurant at 12580 Seminole Boulevard in Largo on 1 August 2010. The Fireplace was a recommendation from TBB Fan Melanie.

Inside was very welcoming. We got a string of hellos from everyone we met. Along the way we heard folks being greeted as “sweetie” and “you want the usual?” Our most excellent readers will recognize, as surely as Blue Oyster Cult is followed by Bob Dylan on the iPOD, that it’s a Good Sign when folks get called sweetie and get offered the usual.

Also, I don’t have an iPOD and neither does Marek, I just wanted to plug Blue Oyster Cult and also to suggest that we can all use more cowbell.

We had coffee. It hit the spot. The spot is, obviously, that bold bitter hole in the stomach that preens without hot battery acid, and aches with it. That spot that cries for good, hot diner coffee. This hit the spot. It also hit Marek’s spot.

We didn’t play cars this morning. I know, that must sound terrible, like if I had said that the family fish died (they did) or that Marek’s mother was pregnant with twins (she’s not, thank goodness). But we played trains instead.

This morning’s table became a busy bee hive of railway activity. Much like the Island of Sodor, which, if you’ve ever paid any serious attention at all (ehem, New York Times Editorial Page, ehem), seems to have a truly vast number of tank engines for a land mass that’s apparently no larger than Davis Island.

This morning we had Sir Handel in charge. I personally find the concept of these anthropomorphic locomotives with early-childhood mentalities being used for hard labor to be pretty chilling. And they’re rather freaky to look at, too.

Thank goodness breakfast came before I got all caught up in “social commentary.” Jeez, do I ever shut up?

Pancakes!

I have to give a shout-out to my groovy T, a thoughtful present from former TBB Guest Reviewer Arthur. Arthur knows that I have taken a few photographs of pies I have eaten.

I feel the need to mention at this point that I am not a nutcase.

These were some good pancakes! I thought the bacon was average, but that suited Marek just fine as he ate mine and his. The eggs were pretty good. Like, I wouldn’t drive a country mile for them but I also would not yell at the hens who laid the eggs either. Maybe I’d drive a metric mile.

Most importantly, Marek seemed happy.

When the time came for the bill, we were pleased. We’ve been shelling out 11, 12 samoles for breakfast every week. This time all that chow rolled in at around eight bucks. We gathered a byte of Washingtons and got ready for Marek’s big job.

“A byte of Washingtons.” Gawd, I slay me sometimes.

Marek jumped to the task. He said, looky here, long chops. I’ve quoted Bob Dylan for you, let you go on about child labor issues and the symbolism of the Island of Sodor, and I’ve put up with your silly jokes (“Byte of Washingtons,” really? no one is going to laugh at that, not even TBB Fan Dave the Sly Red Fox), now just make with the cash, old man.

Dear reader, did you just think that Marek was all about getting the job done and paying the bill? That’s why you’re the sucker and I’m the dad, because I knew better. He just wanted to crawl up in this girl’s arms and get carried around.

He finally did actually pay and even brought some change back. (Not pictured here, Sir Handel being held for ransom. What, you thought he brought back the change every week out of the goodness of his heart?)

We wrapped it up and headed out. This was a very nice breakfast. Locals. Friendly staff. Good chow. The Fireplace Restaurant is definitely worth a visit. Marek agreed.

We’re pleased to give the Fireplace Restaurant a Tampa Bay Breakfasts Four-Pancake Rating.

We got on the road and headed straight to the park. This is a park that I remember my parents taking me to when I was about Marek’s age.

We played all over the place, threw a ball, played hide-and-seek, got on the swing, watched the jet skis on the lake, and went down a big slide together. The only good picture we took was of this completely rockin’ dino guy.

Good morning chow. Good times at the park. That, little Marek, is a good day.

We visited the Tin Can Cafe at 307 South Myrtle Avenue on 24 July 2010. This was our first visit to the Tin Can. The Tin Can Cafe was a recommendation from TBB fan Steve T, the proprietor of The Country Skillet and brother of the guy behind the wheel at the Tin Can. It’s all in the family!

As you might have guessed, there were more than just me and Marek at this table. We had cars! And check out The Marek’s cool Holland t-shirt. Attentive readers will notice that one of us did a lot of shopping at an airport recently.

And we were joined by our favorite Guest Reviewer, Mom. Mom, thanks for being part of this morning’s pancake posture. Pure panache!

An un-heard and un-seen presence was with us this morning. Could it have been the spirit of Andrew Jackson, seventh president of the United States? Could it have been a car from the future that I may one day own? No! It’s a NEW BABY, almost here! Just a few weeks!

Marek and I are going to have to get new business cards.

Favorite Guest Reviewer Mom had the hot chocolate. We enjoyed that we’re six months early for Christmas! It’s 100 degrees out there, and she’s got whipped cream!

And the Winter theme continued with my Frosty the Snowman. Not complaining, by any means. I came perilously close to wearing a Peanuts Christmas t-shirt this morning. Then I said, naw, I’m not going to be the ONLY Christmas-themed thing today. I should have listened to my t-shirt stack.

Here’s a great menu. Covers all the bases. Has a fair amount of variety. Prices seem reasonable. No complaints on this dance card.

We ordered pancakes, a fact that may shock any but the most premonitious of readers. That’s not actually a word, by the way, so far as I can tell using the vast power of Google’s dictionary. But as a member of the prestigious and untouchable International Guild of Breakfast Writers (specifically from the chapter of Bay Area Regional Food Epicurean Reporter Syndicate), I claim the right to make stuff up. Whilst we waited, we toasted the grandness of our breakfast endeavors.

Then, we played cars. Marek has a thing these days for Mazda rotary engines. Nothing beats 8 big-block cylinders, tho Mazda does have something going on with those fun little power plants.

So we’re talking about naturally aspirated vs. forced induction. It’s a heated debate. Mom’s all for the NOS. Marek’s about turbos. I’m sort of a fan of both, but I can appreciate a good old fashioned four-barrel Holley, too. I had a V6 one time with the carb sitting out on the bench. I turned the key to bump the engine a notch so I could line up the timing, or something like that, and the engine started. I could clearly see the carburetor sitting on the bench from the cab, yet the engine was running. Ford. 1986 or thereabouts. I’ll tell you the secret on how it was running, but it’ll cost you ….

Breakfast!

Marek, he likes him some syrup on the bacon. And the pancakes, too.

Mom, she likes the French toast. She got the bacon and eggs special for us, too, so we could all share. That’s good bacon, and good eggs too!

Marek and I had the pancakes, natch. Mine with blueberry and his without. He’s a purist like that. We found the bacon to be very fresh and tasty, and the pancakes were quite nice. Quite nice, indeed.

This breakfast is really good, but it’s never so good that there’s not time for un beso! Marek advises me that I’ll need to enjoy these moments now, because there’s going to come a time, sooner than later, when he’ll not want anything to do with me. So I’m enjoying it now, just like the man said.

We wrapped up a fine bit of morning chow with the bill. 17 bucks for three. Not great, but not bad. We’d call that an average price.

Marek paid the bill. He’s the moneybags these days. This picture has nothing to do with hotpants.

Marek made hisself at home behind the counter. Paid the bill, collected change, and even told a few jokes along the way. He thinks he’s the Bob Hope of the Breakfast Circuit. I swear, he’s signing autographs when I ‘m not looking.

Really good pancakes. Nice bacon. Reasonable eggs. Hot, brimstone coffee. French toast passed the Mom test, too. Inside was small, cozy, and full of regulars and right friendly folks. We felt right at home from the moment we got out of the car to the time we walked out the door.

From start to finish we had a really nice time at The Tin Can Cafe. The chow was very nice, the price was OK, but the people, especially the clientele, were just so nice we couldn’t help but come away with smiles. Inside, which we didn’t capture in photographs for some reason, was decorated with all manner of cookie tins and other tin cans, which was interesting and unique. The Tin Can Cafe hits all the right notes for a great little mom-n-pop pancake shop. We’re pleased to give award the Tin Can Cafe with a Tampa Bay Breakfasts four and a half pancake rating.

Marek took me by the hand. Dad, says he, to me, I want to go see some airplanes again. Okie dokie, I said. Let’s go!

We visited The Hangar at Albert Whitted Airport in St. Petersburg on 17 July 2010. The airport is located at 107 8th Avenue S.E, and The Hangar has a nice little web site at http://www.thehangarstpete.com/.

Inside this charming little airport. Marek stopped to ask for directions. And also to see if we could get breakfast served while doing aerobatic stunts.

Well guess what? You can take a ride on a biplane, but you have to pay a lot of money (Marek didn’t have ANY money. Moocher.) AND since it’s a biplane, you have to refer to the airport as an “aerodrome” and if we see a female pilot we must call her an “aviatrix.” Them’s the rules, kiddo. Here’s your brochure.

They don’t serve breakfast on the biplane, so follow the signs.

We walked through a lovely dining room and bar, which was almost completely full when we left.

And then we made it outside to the flightline. This is probably the coolest breakfast location we’ve been to yet!

The Hangar is where fashionable people wear gold sandals and drink mimosas. We fit in here.

The Hangar is where fashionable people come to drink coffee and discuss world events. Here’s Marek, STILL going on about the World Cup, complaining about all of Holland’s yellow cards. As you can see from Marek’s attire, he is a die-hard Netherlands football fan. Has been for decades, if you want to believe him.

The menu at The Hangar is short but fun. No blueberry pancakes here, but we’re going to try the pecan pancakes.

As if the flightline weren’t groovy enough, the whole works is named after a Great War aviator. I’m a bit of a WWI buff (and with all the pancakes I eat, I’m also very “buff” in the muscles department), so I double-dig this bit of trivia.

By the way, this is good coffee! I was about 45 seconds from thinking that my cup would runneth dry when our very charming server (if a male pilot is an aviator and a female pilot is an aviatrix, what’s the female word for server?) arrived with some high-octane jet fuel coffee, fresh from the tanker truck.

Marek turned to me with a wry grin. “I say, old chap. That was a close one.” He held up his mug. “To Queen Beatrix!”

All this general aviation has made us truly hungry. And just in time, look what happened! Breakfast!

Have YOU ever had to stop breakfast to yell at a firetruck? No?

Happens to us every day.

Back to breakfast. These eggs were something to fly in for. I’d say they’re on par with the fine eggs at the Samaria in downtown Tampa. The bacon was just the way we like it. The pancakes were top-notch, just like at The Dome in downtown St. Pete, but with pecans. Marek ate it up. So did I. This breakfast received a double-barrel, bi-plane-delivered, 50-caliber strafing run from the Marek and Andy team. There were no survivors from these plates.

It’s so good, these people flew in from Seattle just to take a picture of their plane parked in front of our Pancake-themed race car.

Can’t say as I blame them. We’re nation wide.

Marek was contemplative about this entire event. Food was outstanding. There were airplanes. He’s squishing butter in his fingers. People here are friendly. There’s a helicopter over there. The economy’s acting like it might be on an uptick. We’re both potty-trained. Marek felt that this was one fine morning.

Marek paid the bill. At 17 pesos for these first class seats I wouldn’t call it a budget airline meal, but it’s still cheaper than United’s in-flight peanut snacks these days.

Marek free-roamed the terminal until he found the right spot to pay. For our TBB fans who write to ask if this is a hoax, I can assure you that at least once a week I let my three year old wander around a strange place waving a Jackson. I usually sit back and drink coffee and wait for my change. He’s three. He can say, “Constantinople and Timbuktu.” He can roller skate. He hardly needs my micromanagement to do something simple like pay the bill.

After settling our tab, Marek checked out the models in the dining room. He’s a fan of the JU 52, but this case seemed to be mostly domestic manufacturers.

So Marek says, can we go look at real airplanes? And maybe we can fly one, or even take it home? Can we, dad, can we, pleeeeeezzzzzz? He looks at me like that and I, obviously, look at him lovingly and say, “quit trying to sweet-talk me, boy!”

They gave us a fun little balsa airplane, so we wouldn’t forget where we’d been.

Now THAT’s a breakfast that cruises above 10,000 feet!

So you fly away from this breakfast and start trying to list the bad things. The price was maybe a little bit high. Maybe.

But then you remember that you just had morning chow on an active flightline, perched comfortably over the ramp.

And you just have to admit that this was the most fun you’ve had at breakfast.

They said that we could even bring Zimno, the family hound, to eat outside. That takes it right over the top.

It’s too early to announce a winner for the 2010 Tampa Bay Breakfast of the Year, but The Hangar is currently the front runner.

We’re pleased to present The Hangar with a Tampa Bay Breakfasts five pancake rating.

Go get you some. Tell ’em Marek and Andy sent ya!

We visited Angie’s Grill at 725 Cleveland Street in Clearwater on 10 July 2010. This was our first visit to Angie’s. They have a nice little web site at http://www.angiesgrill.com/. And we had Arthur join us as a guest reviewer!

And, of course, Marek and Andy were on the scene to pursue pancake promises!

Inside we found a nice, cozy little place with a wrap-around counter. I’m thinking me and Marek might have to get brave in the next couple months and try sitting up high like this. It will likely end in disaster.

We didn’t really get to overhear much chatter, so it’s hard to tell if the clientele are regulars or tourists, but judging books by the covers I’d say a mix of both. Everyone seemed friendly enough. The menu was extensive. Angie’s is a place that Takes Breakfast Seriously. We like that in a mom-n-pop pancake shop.

Of course, we had to get coffee right away. Angie’s is miles and miles from the International Headquarters of Tampa Bay Breakfasts, so we were pretty much in need of the hot coffee dose. Note the cute upholstery on the booth seat.

Do you think Arthur is up for a game of cars? CARRRRS ARFUR LETS GO!

If you were gazing calmly at a breakfast menu, thinking that maybe biscuits and gravy sounds nice this morning, would you be intimidated to look up and see this across the table from you?

Marek hollered, “Stop the derby! We need more coffee!”

After a good swig of that good ole Diner Draft, motor oil in a pot, strong, black, and bitter, Marek was ready for more cars.

Arthur was good, but Marek remains the king of this game. Pretty much because he’s taken to telling you the rules and then telling you you’re doing it wrong whenever you touch anything.

In case you’re wondering where Arthur came from, he’s been a TBB fan for years, and he used to be a cartoon character.

After discussing cars and virtual worlds, we were greeted with breakfast. Check out my awesome “Breakfast Club” t-shirt, featuring Tony the Tiger, Snap, Crackle, and Pop, and the Sugar Smacks frog. I am in high style this morning! Thank you, Favorite Guest Reviewer Mom for the present!

Marek did his syrup thing. Years from now he will be running for public office and some reporter is going to ask him, “So, Gubernatorial Candidate Seely, is it true that you have a ‘Syrup Thing’?” He will, obviously, have to answer, “yes, yes it is.”

Arthur went with the biscuits and gravy. Here’s a picture of him explaining to Marek that these are biscuits and gravy.

Good eggs. Good bacon. Good pancakes. Arthur likes the biscuits and gravy. It’s all good, brothers and sisters! Three full bellies for under 15 samoleans. That’s not bad at all.

Marek suggested that he might be willing to pay the bill.

And off we went. We had a fine time at Angie’s.

This was a good, solid Tampa Bay Breakfast. Nice price, good food, nice people. Not a thing to complain about on this fine morning! We’re pleased to give Angie’s Grill a Tampa Bay Breakfast four pancake rating.

So what happened next? I dropped Marek and Arthur off and their respective houses and then got on a plane to Den Haag. Note the t-shirt and need of a shave.

Holland had World Cup Fever! How can you not love this guy?

But, alas, despite the vigorous support of Tampa Bay Breakfasts, Holland succumbed to Spain in the final moments.

On my next visit Marek’s coming with me. We’ll do some Den Haag Ontbijt!

Marek struck the executive pose in the Pancake Limousine this morning. Casually, he orders, “get me something unique, driver. I want to be entertained this morning.” He’s been very stressed, what with all the pressures of being a top-rated food critic and breakfast blog media mogul. “Yes, sir!” I replied.

So I took him to Yanny’s at 1258 S Highland Ave in Clearwater on 19 June 2010. This was our first visit to Yanny’s, and it was a recommendation from TBB Fan Jeff over a year ago. What can I say, we’ve got a busy pancake schedule!

I came prepared. Dressed for success, as you might notice.

There’s reserved parking, which is a nice touch.

Marek and I talked about how this is our 64th published breakfast. Now 64 is a largeish number when you’re talking breakfasts. Marek also pointed out that 2*1=2*2=4*2=8*2=16*2=32*2=64, so the 64th breakfast is also our 2 to the 6th power breakfast, our 111111th breakfast in binary. But if you don’t count the breakfast in Doha (Marek didn’t go to that one because we couldn’t get his passport back from the embassy in time), and if you don’t count 7 re-visits, and if you don’t count the non-commercial visits (grandma’s house and the Lions Club), then really we’ve only visited 110101. Still impressive, but not the binary home run that Marek was hoping for.

Today is Juneteenth. Tomorrow is Father’s Day. We’re celebrating both with our favorite guest reviewer, Mom.

And we were joined by veteran guest reviewers, Jeff and Frankie. That’s right, we’ve got a full sack of crazy this morning.

We all got right down to business with coffee. This was good stuff. The well ran a little dry from time to time as they got busy, but the coffee was just the way we like it. Black and bitter. Check out Marek’s awesome shirt, “S is for Spider.” Now that’s wicked-cool. If only those came in adult sizes.

Favorite guest reviewer Mom had a hot chocolate. She said it was delicious. I’m sure it was even sweeter because she touched it.

Mom is, as you may have noticed from my repeated mentioning of the fact, rather pregnant. She got a nice chance to practice being a family of four. I took this picture of Mom, Marek, Jeff, and Frankie together as a family. And then I ran for Mexico.

The menu has a set of rules on the back. They threatened us with #3.

So finally, after all this, we got a chance to put in an order for some pancakes. Excuse me, ma’am. How thick are your pancakes? They’re that thick? (Seriously, that’s what we were talking about here.)

Breakfast came. And so did chaos. Like a reading of Howl in one deep breath, so came enormous cake-like pancakes, bacon, ham, french toast, eggs, grits, and heck, I don’t know, stuff for other people too. So much so fast that I didn’t even get pictures of everything. But Steve, I’m here to tell you, this bacon was Steve Standard. Marek jumped right on it.

Favorite Guest Reviewer Mom (FGRM) had the most unique french toast we’ve ever seen. She said it was “delish.”

And Frankie, little Frankie, he had grits. Like a good Southron boy.

Marek is into putting on his own syrup. Check out Frankie and the pancake heist in progress. That’s a taste of your own medicine, bubba!

The bill came. Twennysix bucks for three grown ups and two kids for chow we had so much of we couldn’t finish. That’s not a bad deal. Plus, we were a little bit of a tidiness disaster, so it really felt like a value.

Marek paid the bill, as he does from time to time when he’s not feeling ornery.

Ever notice how Marek just makes himself at home in kitchens across the Bay Area? If I did that, I’d get arrested. That’s the kind of charisma this kid has. Charm.

Unique take on pancakes, including the blueberry pancakes. I’m not entirely sure I loved them, but I surely liked them. Steve-standard bacon. Great coffee. Nice folks. Nifty and quirky attitude to the place. And the price was just right. We’re pleased to give Yanny’s French Toast King a Tampa Bay Breakfast four and a half pancake rating.

When we were done with breakfast, we went to Sam’s Books at the Oldsmar Fleamarket.

As you can see here, Marek was trying to impress the little girl with his Jackson Five moves. You can see the same move at time 1:08 here. (I’m at time 3:00)

Hi picked out his books and paid the bill. Off we went, home for a nap! That’s a nice morning!