Dishin’: Pannekoeken Please

Business recently took us to Bellingham—not exactly a food mecca. We knew that just across the border lay Richmond with its bounty of dim sum, xiao long bao, and other Chinese delights, but we decided to save that for another day. Edging just slightly to the north, we instead found ourselves in Lynden.

Lynden boasts “distinctive” motel rooms inside a windmill, a site that would smack of a love hotel in Japan… but don’t look for multiculturalism here. Being Dutch is the only sign of difference in this straight-laced, Edward Scissorhands enclave.

All we knew about this nether-lands town were tidbits about dancing and dining. When asked, a few locals told us that dancing was disallowed in places serving alcohol, but they were unsure whether the law was official or even current. On the dining side, in our quest for Dutch food, they all steered us to one place: Dutch Mothers for a little nurturing and a lot of pancaking.

Stepping into Dutch Mothers restaurant, we smirked at the kitschy décor but managed a heartfelt smile at the seeming sincerity of our traditionally clad waitress. Our mother-for-the-moment recommended their popular pannekoeken. One savory and one sweet, please.

They soon arrived.

Remember, we’re talking a meat-and-potatoes cuisine. No subtlety. No nuance. To say that Dutch pancakes are big is like saying that Bill Gates is rich. These were runaway blobs, overflowing their plates and poised to take over the table.

Our mushroom-and-cheese pannekoeken was interesting—for a bite or two. Then it tasted like a failed pizza. But the apple-and-cinnamon! Topped with whipped cream and maple syrup (next time we’ll bring a bottle of the real thing from Vermont), the pancake was guilty pleasure goodness. Like giddy kids, we dived in and, barely breathing, polished it off in no time at all. Dutch mother approved. And we danced out the doors, happily… and legally.