Blues and Germs

Today, a new breakfast spot: Stacks on Hayes. New to us, anyway, and like the name implies, they have pancakes. I happen to love me some flapjacks, but cannot seem to find any (excepting Chloe's only-every-so-often blueberry or pumpkin) that measure up to my lofty standards. So to Stacks we went, and while we waited, I got us some fine New Orleans iced crack at Blue Bottle, a few blocks away.
My pancakes were the Blues with Germ, i.e., wheatgerm. They were pretty good; the germ adds a nice pebbly texture, akin to cornmeal, and they didn't use those awful frozen berries. Although the place charges a hefty fee for real maple syrup (treason!), these 'cakes came with a ramekin of blueberry compote, so I didn't have to use the fake stuff. And a short stack was huge; JP had to help me, and we still didn't finish the whole thing. My side of scrambies was commendable, as was JP's chorizo-egg scramble in whole wheat tortillas. I still crave Portland pancakes, but when the sun's out and Alla Prima is just a few doors down, you can't complain.