We stopped in for breakfast today at The Pfunky Griddle in Berry Hill. Filled with the familiar fumes of cooking oil and pancakes, the tiny cook-it-yourself breakfast place was a hive of activity, with the Tennessee Crossroads crew there filming owner Penelope Pfuntner & Co.
You might remember that I reviewed Pfunky Griddle last year, and while I loved the concept, I had a few suggestions, namely that a restaurant dedicated to grinding its own flour for pancakes should probably consider stocking real maple syrup, and that any breakfast place worth its sugar should at least have a kick-ass cup of coffee.
I was delighted to learn that Pfuntner has made at least those modifications. Not only has she switched coffee brands, she bought a bunch of great, big cups perfect for sipping away a rainy winter morning. She will also bring in Bongo Java beans in the near future, which will be a separate option on the menu.
Just as we were sopping up the last drizzles of maple-flavored syrup with our whole grain pancakes and French toast, we learned that we could have ordered a little pitcher of genuine Grade A for an additional $2.
I did not order sides today, so I can't say whether Pfuntner has upgraded the bacon, which was the other thing I suggested she improve. But this go-round we received a ramekin overflowing with fresh blueberries to go along with the pancakes, a generous and welcome addition. And the gentleman seated next to us had a whole mess of stunt toppings as part of the Crossroads segment, which he kindly passed over to us after filming. (Pfunky Griddle does have a friendly sharing vibe, if you like that in a restaurant.) So while I don't usually go in for goofy pancake toppings, I gotta admit my chocolate chip-walnut-pecan-blueberry breakfast was pretty pfunkin' good.
When the Crossroads episode airs (no one seems to know when that could be) you might even catch sight of Jack Silverman and me having breakfast with our friend and USN student Forest Miller, who was visiting the Scene for the morning. “This is really fun. I gotta bring my kids,” I said. Forest, completely unaware that he was sending me into an approaching-midlife spiral of self-loathing, replied, “Yeah, I gotta bring my parents.”