A couple of months ago, I took a last minute trip home to New York. The weekend was full but we managed to find time on a dreary Sunday morning to go on a road-trip for pancakes . . . an hour-long road-trip.
Now, if you think it sounds absurd to drive an hour for some pancakes, you are not alone. This is what I thought as we drove through the smallest, most desolate towns you can imagine. But people don't drive an hour and wait hours more in line for just any pancakes with just any syrup.
We New Yorkers take our syrup seriously. Vermont gets all of the credit for real maple syrup, but, in my totally-biased opinion, New York maple syrup is even better. Since you can't get in in Utah, my wonderful mother regularly mails me bottles of it to adorn my homemade pancakes and waffles.
