After having been here for three months, living 2 blocks from the 24 hour hot cake house, I finally yielded to temptation and went there for breakfast/lunch/dinner. I include all three meals because I went there at 1 in the afternoon and the portions were sufficient to cover my needs for the entire day and probably some more. The place itself is a piece of classisic americana. From the sulphur yellow exterior, to the glaring neon sign shouting to passing motorists the delights of the heart attack inducing special of the day. Order at the counter, find a moulded formica table, with matching formica chair, in that particular shade of brown made popular in the 1970's before they discovered colour. When my food arrived, it took a moment or two to really appreciate what I had done by the simple act of ordering a meat lovers omelette, the task ahead of me was daunting. With a brief aside to plan an attack, I leaped in omelette first, then cakes. Half way through the omelette I realised that I wasn't going to make it. I started to panic and eat the hot cakes, I didn't want to have only one of the delights on the plate. The hot cakes covered in butter and syrup were the final straw filling every conceivable gap in my stomach like polyfilla, I conceeded defeat. There upon the table the victorious half omelettte and brutally savaged hot cakes, smirked their victory through a glaze of maple syrup.