If the Pope were to ask where he could get the best stack of pancakes in Dallas ...

... I would reply, "Your Holiness, have you tried the Cinn-a-Stack from IHOP?"*

Last Thursday was a sad day. Rose returned to Chicago, the skies were gray, the weather freezing. She and I had planned to have brunch in the hour before we had to hit the road for the airport. Yet, my mind went completely blank. I couldn't think of a local place that Rose and her friends hadn't already over-visited in their get togethers over the last month. (I know, I completely forgot Cindi's and am still kicking myself.)

It is an ill wind that blows no good though because we wound up at IHOP. Loving cinnamon rolls the way that I do, I couldn't resist the Cinn-a-stack. The pancakes were layered with cinnamon roll style filling and had a bit of cream cheese icing on top. To my surprise, they were not too sweet, with just the right amount of cinnamon and, of course, the buttermilk pancakes were delicious.

They were truly heavenly and worthy of the Holy Father, should he ever come to town for breakfast.

It was still a sad day when we finished. Yet, when you are full of pancakes and cinnamon, it leaves less room for the sad feelings. Perhaps that is why we wound up animatedly talking about Rose's idea for a Western movie all the way to the airport. And our sad feelings were forgotten until we got to the gate.

*With apologies to Roger Ebert, whose writing was the genesis of the phrase above. (If the Pope were to ask where he could get a good plate of spaghetti in America, I would reply, "Your Holiness, have you tried the Chili Mac or the Chili 3-Ways?")