Poppies and Pancakes

Perhaps the best pancakes I've ever had come from Matt's Big Breakfast in downtown Phoenix. I'm not the only one who thinks so, either. On any given morning you can expect to have to wait for one of the very few tables in this tiny restaurant. And people do wait. Outside. On the street. In the sun. In the heat. In a not-so-nice neighborhood. Because, somehow, they transform the mundane to the magical. I mean, just having a slice of toast there is a delightful culinary event. It's thick cut from a proper loaf of French bread, and wondrously perfectly done. Not too crispy, not too pale. Nicely crunchy on the outside, tender on the inside. The accompanying preserves come from the farmers market across the street. I stock my fridge with the same stuff now, and I don't think I can ever go back to any other sort. (It's Terra Verde, by the way, and although there are lots of fancy flavors, I think the straight-up blackberry and apricot preserves are the best.) In any case, it was a fine way to start this day, back in early March, before riding the Apache Trail (AZ 88), to witness one of the best wildflower displays we've had in southern Arizona for years.

Here's another picture...

...and a little map.

AZ 88 is the squiggly blue line towards the top left of the map, below Apache Lake. When on a moto, squiggles = good!