at the Eastern Market, 225 7th St SE, Washington, DC
Ohh Friday, thank goodness… It’s been a long week! I’ve also been craving pancakes for the last 3 weeks now and haven’t had the opportunity to get and get some, so that may be this weekend’s task. In the meantime, I’m going to keep crushing on the amazing pancakes I had in Washington DC earlier this year at the Eastern Market. Market + pancakes = happy days, usually.
Unfortunately, this time, it was the market itself that was a bit of a letdown; we arrived an hour after opening time to find hardly any markets stalls actually set up.. Luckily, breakfast more than exceeded our expectations! There were a few food places open, but Market Lunch seemed to have three times the customers than the rest of the places combined, so like moths to the flame, we followed the wafting bacon smells in the air and joined the quickly moving line.
These guys have an absolutely killer breakfast menu, mostly egg variations and some pancakes, which made it a bit easier to make a selection. Husband went with “the brick” (above right), a solid (literally, solid) sandwich of egg, potato, cheese and meat of choice (bacon, duh) for a very civilised USD$4.25. It weighed about as much as a house brick, was completely delicious with the melty cheese and the gooey egg yolk, and really filled you up!
My choice was cemented as soon as I walked past the big communal dining bench in front of the counter. Pancakes. Dear God, pancakes. I’d been craving them for ages, and my stomach was just recovering from it’s latest bout of “something you’re eating is making me want to die,” so I was actually hungry. I didn’t want to over-do it though, so I just ordered the short stack of blueberry buckwheat pancakes with toasted pecans for around USD$5.00 – I figured this little short stack would satisfy the craving without making me full to the point of illness. How wrong I was… my “short stack” was compiled of two dinner-plate sized pancakes, each close to an inch thick, with a ton of pecans and a vat of help-yourself syrup. Holy wow. The pancakes themselves were beyond delicious, they were exactly what I felt like, and the toasted pecans were perfect with the blueberries. The hot syrup was both the literal and figurative icing on the cake, and I contemplated the appropriateness of hugging the pancake chef. I only got through half the stack, husband made a small dent in the remaining half, but for $10, we were both utterly stuffed.
If you happen to find yourself in DC this weekend, head to the Eastern Market, don’t bother looking around, just join the cue, order some eggs and pancakes, and you’ll understand what everyone looks so damn happy about! And for the rest of us, may we all find pancakes and eggs that delicious in our own cities (recommendations for Melbourne very welcome at this point!).